The Alternate
by YourFilthyMudblood
Summary: The evil of Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters had been released to all. Those who fought against him were sentenced to a fate worse than death, including Hermione and Ginny. Captured for exploitation and torture, Hermione is faced with her most difficult challenge yet. In a desperate battle of torment, power and betrayal will Hermione be able to survive and save the day?
1. The War Was Never Realy Won

Chapter One

_The War Was Never Really Won_

* * *

Hermione could never of said which turn of events would take place, either during the war or the aftermath that it would carry. Harry Potter, their saviour was to live or die – either of which would change the course of history forever. However no one predicted his disappearance nor did anyone know the reason why.

Speculation spread across all those who turned an ear to care, each time the stories growing more elaborate. Some say he had fled through cowardice, some say he was strengthening forces in Bulgaria. Yet none of the fabrications mattered to anyone any more, most just thought that he had been killed along with everyone else. Hermione meanwhile could only deny the betrayal and assume that one day he would rise again to claim peace.

**Peace**. A word Hermione thought about often, yet she could never make sense of the presently obsolete sound. It is defined as freedom of disturbance; so far that privilege did not reach her currently doomed experience. She scoffed at the idea of freedom, after all no liberties remained within the former Gryffindor Princess.

The war itself was traumatic enough for anyone involved and to no longer remain as they were; but this... **This,** whatever 'this' was, it was different. It was hell.

The environment of the dimension she had been hurled into lashed its menacing shadows and sounds around her. Darkened veils slithered along the walls of the confined and sullied tent. All was bare besides the varying degrees of samples left from the previous occupier. The red hues of blood across the panelling casted the eerie effect of the sun rising to Hermione's accustomed circumstances.

The flooring wasn't much of an improvement either, shamefully playing host to many unwanted guests. Several carcasses from rats and birds disintegrated in the corner with little thought from Hermione. All she could do was to wait. After all, she had been incarcerated for months now and luck could only carry her so far before the inevitable would be committed.

They ran riot, did as they pleased, committing monstrous crimes as they did so. Screams, yells, laughter... Hermione heard all the sounds that could possibly be emitted by humans, from every possible hideous act. Yet it was the laughter, the deep cackles of men signalling to their comrades the damage was once again done that etched itself under her skin. Many countless nights she spent listening to the cries wondering who it was tonight. Cho? Katie? Hannah? First Years? Little Gabrielle? Was it her turn tonight?

Regardless of their evident pain a relief swirled darkly within her. After all if their screams could have been heard at least the Death Eaters were too busy with them rather than Hermione. This wasn't the time to play hero, that moment had been lost amongst the rubble that once was the glorious Hogwarts. Now was the time for survival, not for anyone else but herself.

Eight months she had spent like this, allowing dark circles to engorge her eyes, seeming to sink deeper within her as if protecting her from the sights that came to her so frequently. The strain from them was unbelievable; so many tears had been rinsed out of them no moisture could possibly remain. The involuntary reaction of blinking even became a painful process.

Her bright eyes had become bloodshot through various damaged vessels from various damaging beatings. The windows to her soul held the helplessness she felt and her face had transformed into an exhibition of her suffering.

Her lips were cracked and stained with blood, time after time Hermione brutalised the inside of her mouth for the sake of silence, the unwilling force to somehow survive the torment. Her emotions had overtaken her appearance even before her arrival, however now the evidence of misery was all too apparent. Her hair, once bushy, lively and thick now draped liked broken straw across her shoulders.

She was lucky, before Hermione had been placed in the camps all of those that had been snatched were forced into having their heads shaven – male or female. The mystery of the revoked procedure ignited an ounce of happiness for some, until it was discovered that without hair it became much easier to perform a wandless spell, thus protecting the last dignity she had left.

Her weight too demised terribly, leaving the prominent lines of her skeleton traced up and down her around her joints a painful fluid sack compassed around them, reducing her ability to move efficiently. However this didn't affect Hermione too much as she always assumed a particular position for hours on end, cradling her knees in an attempt to resemble some kind of solace.

Her nails were the worst - those that remained were dirty - split and coated in blood which filled into every morsel of her, corrupting, excavating, **creeping** into soul. Her own blood, Death Eaters, friends... Ron's...

The war was never really won. Harry did not die. This was the thought that carried Hermione on. Out of all the suffering she needed something to hold on to. She had been degraded so much in past months she didn't even feel human anymore. So many horrific things had happened, some she bore witness too and others were too unbearable to think about. Haunting memories filled her with terror as the ghostly faces manifested around her.

_""_

_The rain fell heavily, cutting through the air propelled by the wind. Every drop felt like a knife against Hermione's exposed skin - ricocheting against her shaking body. All had been given crude, discoloured and ripped robes to wear regardless of age or size. Her legs were painful and the thought of sitting down would not leave her mind. Hours she stood standing, standing, standing, nothing else. _

_The heavens above them had opened releasing the torrential conditions of what Hermione could only assume was April. Her feet were bare, suctioning her even further into the thick, sticky mud and at least twice their guard had been changed. However she was like so many others, another thirty girls stood around her identical in their soaked rags. The only one identifiable was that of Susan Bones and already she too had become a picture of the persecution they had been sentenced to. _

_It wasn't just about Mudbloods and the purity of magic anymore, it was anyone who dared to speak, act or fight for themselves. However it was only Mudbloods and Half-bloods that were sent to camps, most Purebloods were trapped in the castle with Lord Voldemort and his most trusted servants or sent as personal slave to those with the Dark Mark. _

_Her knees had begun to shake, a sure sign that she could not stand for much longer. This time nobody had collapsed so far but Hermione wasn't prepared to be the first. Anyone who did feint or refuse to stand was taken away for the Death Eaters entertainment later. _

_The biting cold and lashing rain stapled the now transparent wet material to her bruised skin, after being exposed to the elements; blisters formed a raw graze across her visible body. She had been in this situation so many times the embarrassment of exploitation was a meagre complaint compared to never ending torture of standing for hours. _

_The sheer terror of knowing that any movement could cause a Cruciatus curse to any of those who didn't obey was constantly mounted around the prisoners. There was no purpose to the standing, only that of the sanctioning their creed. _

_A violent spasm shot through Hermione's core, pushing her mass to the sludge beneath her. Her hands vacuumed into the mud, followed by her knees and face. A soul etching howl was freed from the pathetic sight on the floor. Nobody dared to look her as they too would incur the same discipline. With the crashing of the downpour surrounding her, two Death Eaters worked their way through the group until they reach Hermione._

_ Her being was so encases in the weather ridden ground all movement was impossible, she wanted to kick, to punch, to bite, anything to stop her being dragged with the men. Refusing to look at either of the wizards, two large hands wrapped around her arms pulling her up from the ground. As they did so the deluge around her sucked her back towards the ground creating a tug of war between the two pressures. Hermione continued to wail, begging incoherently the same as all the others she had seen being yanked so unsympathetically._

_ A loud high pitch conch signalled throughout the camp, informing the captives that no longer did they have to stand. Hermione's soul broke in two as all she needed to do was poise herself a minute longer. However now it was too late. A small stone hut resided just in front of her with a looming black door. She didn't dare look behind and her entrance to hell crawled ever closer. _

_Closing her eyes tight in terror she could find no fight left in her, and the eruptive bang of the Death Eater to her right kicking open the door before her only increased the horror of what was to come._

_""_

Hermione continued to stare at the sheathing, reliving the carousel of her memories. When she first came, every night she would cry not only for herself but everyone else who had endured anything near what she had. Now she couldn't even care for herself and as far and she was concerned, it was always better to happen to somebody else rather than herself.

It seemed impossible to believe that her life had become this, an eternity of pain, humiliation and misery. She felt like an animal, dehumanized by those who were spawned for evil. They were built for it, designed flawlessly to not only torture with magic but to take away every civilized right. It seemed that they enjoyed that particular torment the most as it to prove to be highly effective.

No longer could she identify herself as a witch, a Gryffindor, as Hermione. They had made her feel lower than a Mudblood, more unworthy than any other creature. She wasn't even sure if she was still alive, how could she be?

Everything had spiralled so deeply out of control; after all it was to be believed that victory was theirs until six months before her capture.

Against all odds they had managed to escape the battlefield with Harry, it was surely just a matter of time. So many had died in order to defeat Lord Voldemort and so much had been put at risk. They had been so close to victory and Hermione cursed herself silently for her stupidity and naivety.

_But he promised me!_

His last words danced through her mind as the image of Harry faded away. She rolled awkwardly onto her back resembling a broken Muggle doll. All of her was bent and creaked painfully as most of her joints had fused at a certain degree.

Stones and lumps of dried mud dug into her back and she could feel the blood rushing around her head. Her fists collided with canvas flooring, impacting with what lay beneath her. Hermione stared above her, searching for something. Perhaps in attempt to dwell on another awful memory, perhaps in hope of an epiphany or saviour.

Nothing would ever appear a part from maybe a forbidding shadow. Yet somehow every day, she laid waiting for whatever was to come as there was no fight left. Sleep would not come either and her mind and body was impossible to rest. If she was awake, if she had some warning, there might be a chance to survive.

The emptiness didn't aid her sleep either; god knows how long it had been since she ate. Although her starved framed longed for food she could not bring herself to digest to stale rations she was given. It was enough to keep her alive but in no way nutritious or easy to chew.

The sun had slowly begun to sink encouraging the cool air in comparison to the suffocating heats during day. It whistled through the tent softly, mildly soothing her constant discomforts. The blue of the sky started to roll into its bright tones of pink and orange with the night lingering not too far away.

Unfortunately the tent had started to paint a foul contrast to the outside world as the combinations of odours became sulphuric around her. Thankfully it was so foul whenever a Death Eater did decide to come her way they assumed no living thing could possibly stay in such a terrible squalor. Even a Mudblood.

As the night had begun to commence and crawled past slowly, it teased Hermione with sounds of the monstrosities that seemed to occur once the sun had fallen. Everybody became far more vulnerable at night as the Death Eaters drowned themselves in Firewhisky and gratified whatever needs they held. Eventually the screams would die down, and at some point the camp was at rest.

As she lay there she wondered how many did the same, replaying the self torture over and over in identical fashion. All had been committed to the same abyss of nonexistent hope. It was foolish to still think but Hermione was convinced of the one hope that still perhaps remained. Yet what good was he now?

Each day the hope grew less and less but she needed something. At no point could she explain why she tried so desperately to grip onto something. After all he left without hesitation abandoning his two best friends and a slither of an empty promise.

'Coward!'

She spat ferocious to her hollow surroundings with only the stench to hear her. A bomb of frustration began to build under her ribcage, out of all that had happened, this was the ultimate treachery.

Her throat was exceedingly dry, creating harshness at the back of her mouth. It was not often she spoke, yet each time she did it always resulted in regret. It was always wise to make as little noise as possible especially around twilight, yet the anger was undeniably justified. However before she could impart on her actions, a looming silhouette crept to the front of her tent.

The smears of blood and earth over the covering distorted the presence but not enough for Hermione to know it was her turn. She glanced around as fast as her stiffened neck would allow. A shot of adrenaline rose through her biting at her sides.

As useless as it was, it was instinct to not give up the fight. What fight? She had no choice. She was theirs for the taking and all she could do was to wait. Yet whatever they were to condemn her to she would not cry and she would not scream. That, they did not deserve.

As the shadow increased its size with louder footsteps to accompany them, a low growl released itself from the wizard outside. It sounded so animalistic and barbaric it could only prove one thing - that this was not a man.

Hermione breathed in a suppressed squeal sharply through the fear she felt the monster that lurked beyond her sights. In the months she had spent here she had managed to avoid the claws that would indeed tear her apart. His oppressive stature only preceded his reputation which was increased greatly by the black shapes sprawled over the tent. Once he was to enter her life would surely end.

'What the fuck have you been told Greyback?'

Her heart burst rapidly inside her with her worst fears confirmed. Yet the other man, one she could not see but became perfectly audible froze her to the floor rendering it impossible to move an inch. 'You filthy dog, you really want something that's been fucked about by the Lestrange whore? You make me feel fucking sick.'

Her stomach churned at the reminder of her most torturous encounter. The pearlescent trails remained on her skin - even in the darkness the scars up and down her body were unmistakable. Her legs lay bare from the vulgar rag that she had claimed as clothing and the contamination - with endless amounts of unhygienic bodily samples - irritated her open wounds. It barely covered what it needed it to but did provide the most amount of dignity possible - at least she wasn't in the freezing rain.

Echoes of curses and hexes embossed her skin leaving no escape from the horrendous day. Her arms were no better, the word Mudblood tattooed to her from a dagger, from the same evil being. It was clear she deserved no identity, no individuality, only to be herded like cattle and wait for her unquestionable fate. The unknown man's voice broke her silent thoughts, 'we're throwing this little bitch in there before you get any ideas.'

He allowed a no doubt awkward pause pass between them.

'They're off limits Fenrir, The Dark Lord specified. I don't see why you give such a shit about these ones with all the choice you've got. Anyway, we've got new batch coming in, picked up a mile outside Hogwarts. Fucking idiots, it's like they wanted to get caught, mind you half of them were part of Dumbledore's Army. Ballsy little fucks, I'll give them that...'

He pulled open the tent door without even acknowledging the girl station in the centre. Throwing someone in, the flap fell back down as quickly as it was opened. The shadows left without any exchange leaving both girls to a shared torment.

Much like Hermione the girl was with a doubt neglected and defeated. Her hair once so vivacious and startlingly bright lay limp and dull. An apparent black eye began to present itself, manipulating her features. However it was clear this girl was once very beautiful.

Her hands were a mess and she shook violently like an animal that had been caged up so long it had forgotten how to live. This was not the girl she remembered.

Hermione attempted slowly to hoisted herself to her who sat where she was thrown. If she did indeed recognised Hermione she made little inclination towards that thought.

This was exactly what it looked like to give up, to allows the evil deeds continue. Crawling pathetically towards her friend she examined the newly found bruises across the girl's body. Their clothing was not too dissimilar, both designed to shows as much as possible which of course, it did triumphantly.

'Ginny... Who did this to you?'

Her speech, no more than a whisper was hoarse and cracked. Words seemed so unfamiliar, like everyone else cries of distress and misfortune were the only thing to leave her lips - as well as a tooth if she was lucky enough.

Hermione wanted nothing more than to be united with one of her friends again. She would even happily of taken one of the Patil twins for the sake of a familiar face. Now the situation had presented itself and Hermione wanted nothing more than to be left alone.

However this wasn't just anyone, it was Ginny whom she fought side by side with, whose hand she held as they watched loved ones ridiculed and tribunaled. Yet neither of the girls were the same, how was it possible to rekindle a friendship claimed by two entirely different people?

Shame rose to her face, no longer did she feel the innocence she once took for granted, the kind hearted spirit nor the strength required by Ginny to fix this mess.

Unfortunately the mess was so much more than that. Hundreds had been imprisoned indiscriminately, the boys were mainly executed in the first instance and some came to the camps for and Death Eaters with an acquired taste.

Mostly they were surrounded by girls around the same age, some were drastically younger. Like so many others Ginny and Hermione fought through the aftermath of war, working with the Ministry to hunt down as many of the Dark Lords followers they could find. Of course it never proved that easy. Six months was all it took for the evil to conquer once more, that was the last day she saw Ginny before this moment.

A strange feeling crept over her, exhaustion was present to say the least, yet this was different. Suddenly the numbness edged away, releasing the vast amounts of suppressed emotions. Now she was given the opportunity to share the hate, the anger, all the pain. She never realised how truly lonely she was and now to be joined by one of her best friends sparked a hope that had been lost.

_Maybe it isn't over, maybe there's a way..._

Yet all the emotion drained whatever feeble amounts of energy she had left. It was not long before the darkness consumed her into the realms of unforgiving dreams.

Hermione awoke early that morning as usual, greeted by heavy smell of damp. However it was never very wise to have a few extra hours sleep while the Death Eaters took their morning patrol. The hazy days and humid nights caused the tent material to be terrorised by condensation. A thick smog had apparently built up over the night restricting Hermione's breathing.

The familiar pain that belonged to her head, among other parts of her body were forcing her to leave her half conscious state. Not that this bothered her too much, it's not like she ever had a decent night sleep anyway. Yet who would in such circumstances?

The horrors of war had plagued her mind all night, the never ending screams of the innocent and the stench of blood singed to her nostrils for all eternality, bitterly stinging her senses as it did every morning.

When her misty amber eyes finally opened to her reality it was to the surreal frozen sight of Ginny. Whom she, in all honesty wished she was a fragment of her distorted dreams. Hermione rose awkwardly from the floor she used as a bed - the mornings were always difficult.

Lack of nutrition, hydration and civilised toileting left her dizzy most of the time. She nursed the constant soft thump on her right temple, pacing herself gingerly. Her stomach growled within her, clenching at her torso she submitted to its punishment and bent over. Food... _No, I mustn't... It's not like I'll be getting it anytime soon. _

To her actions Ginny made little response remaining crossed legged, eyes closed, fighting her own demons. The pain continued down to the knees of Hermione, crippling them dramatically, forcing her to the floor. The memories of forbidden thoughts came to her with little warning. Before she had time to think her eyes were a flood with tears. A rush of panic as the their long ago surrender engulfed Hermione back to that day.

_""_

_She cackled, wand rose high, utter glee on her condemned face. Bellatrix stood on a fallen pillar subsequent of the battle, twisting her wand as her feet pranced like a spoilt child's. Harry was suspended in mid air, his arms stretched out either side of him, his already beaten body on display. _

_The blood began to trickle more freely as his feature contorted to the pain, his once strong green eyes full of tears. His yells reverberated throughout the grounds presenting torture not only to him but those who watched their Messiah reduced to the victimisation of the evil. His rounded glasses - perhaps no longer as circular as they once were – had been bent and shattered like the souls of the forsaken. Sickeningly they were in the possession of Voldemort. _

_Bellatrix moved the wand in her fingers as if it was ribbon. 'Crucio!' her laughter chased into every ear present. Harry screamed thrashing in the air, his body almost giving up hope. Bellatrix spun him slowly on his invisible pedestal for all to see. His torture in front of the whole school, the DA, the Order. The Death Eaters at last finally had their long awaited prize._

_Voldemort stood by casually laughing in rhythm to Harry's screams, merely exhibiting his success._

_'Make the Potter boy dance for his Lord!' _

_His cold high pitch demeanour threatening the sanity of most. Bellatrix flicked her tongue across her thin lips in excitement. Voldemort, with little hesitation, had his wish granted. Hermione stopped watching the disgusting sceptical before her by this point, soaking her tears into Ron's woollen jumper. _

_Nobody moved. _

_Not only had they taken Harry but they had taken their hope along with it. His screams surged towards Hermione. Her best friend, nothing short of a brother, an innocent boy thrown willingly to a fate worse than death. _

_He was a celebrated hero, now **dancing** for the Dark Lord. It was an insult to his life, a sham to the memories of his parting. Humiliation and torture. In one swift flick of the wand, Harry's body dropped unforgiving to the ground leaving only the echoes if screams in his wake._

_""_

The tears continued to stream, staining her face. Hermione fell to her side with a thud, gripping onto the tent flooring as if it would bring her strength. Her hands possessed her hair, clutching at the dull strands forcing the emotional anguish out of her. It brought nothing apart from more despair. ' Harry...' she whispered between her rasped breaths. Hermione fell into silent cries, if Ginny noticed she made little attention that she did so.

Both girls wrapped up in their own torment. No amount of comfort Ginny could bring would rectify the death of those she loved, her would be consoling was far from Hermione's mind however. She at least had comfort in Ron's death. She knew he was trying to do the right thing. Harry merely disapparated when he had the chance.

It had been a long while since Hermione had a sense of time, upon her arrival her existence was to not end up like so many others. The only time that was distinguished was that of the movements of the sun. So how long Hermione lay there with her inner turmoil running wild, she could not say. She squeezed at the flooring as she rocked herself hoping it might relinquish some emotion, that if maybe it would materialize either of the boys in front of her. Eventually she drifted off into the realms of past antipathy.

She was awoken by the intense heat of the summer at midday. The flap was pulled back spilling the brightness into the girl's tent. Ginny had not moved from her previous position and Hermione reacted unnaturally slow to the intrusion, prying her face which stuck to the floor from her incessant crying.

Her eyes felt chapped, like they were made of glass. She had little idea why her body decided to cry, it only did more harm than good. She raised her head slowly to the entrance only to find someone she really did not wish to see. Greyback stood there with hunger his eyes and blood on his breath. His filthy claw like nails ran down the side of the sheathing before he decided to enter.

'Well, well, well. What do we have here? Two little beauties, fit for lunch...'

His eyes traced down the barely covered thighs of Hermione, licking his lips in anticipation. 'Among other things...' He smirked a wicked grin, advancing towards Hermione. She had little time to shuffle herself backwards into the corner of the tent, even if she wasn't any safer.

'I like to make the meat tender before I eat it. Pound it in.' He growled in a long and low frequency baring his serrated teeth at Hermione with the stench of her dead friends still lingering in his mouth. He slowly reached for his belt buckle, allowing the metal to clasp against itself harshly. Before Hermione could prevent the forcible penetration that was about to be committed to her, a loud bang erupted just outside the tent.

'Fenrir! Get the fuck out of that tent!' A man nearly a tall as Greyback and nearly as broad pointed his wand directly at the werewolf. Judging from his voice it was the same man as last night. He entered the appalling conditions, refusing to lower his wand. Greyback froze, not even attempting to hide the scenario.

None of them ever would, it was their world now.

The Death Eater Hermione recognised as Dolohov held his silence and his gaze. The last time she had seen him was during the chase for the prophecy at the Ministry.

Although her first memory was that of Dolohov digging his hands into her scalp, somehow the thoughts warmed her. A place where all of her friends had been together, surviving, with hope.

'You know the fucking rules you mangy piece of shit.' Dolohov continued 'we got their request this morning.' The werewolf appeared very unconvinced, expressing something very disagreeable on his disfigured face. Dolohov in one final attempt began once again, 'besides it's that Malfoy prick who owns them now. There's fuck all you can do about it.'

Dolohov inclined his head to his left to leave, inviting the werewolf along with him. Greyback did so reluctantly but not without saying goodbye. 'I'm sure I'll be seeing you two in good time. Have fun being fucked by Malfoy, you'll wish you had me instead.' He leant forward snarling his teeth in Hermione's stunned face. He left without another word kicking the tent upon his exit. One last fright while he could...

Ironically the fear of what could of happened dissolved like sugar barely registering with the brunette girl. It was what Dolohov said that chilled her very core regardless of the exotic temperatures.

Malfoy.

Of all the people they were to be sent to, nobody made her skin crawl the way he did. How could he so easily of betrayed them? How could he so easily walk into the open arms of Voldemort without so much as looking back? Yet it wasn't a simple coincident they were sent to him, he requested them. Her and Ginny. He wanted them as his slaves, more than likely as a sickening trophy - the best friend and the girlfriend. What could be better for a disgraceful ferret like him?

What could she do? Escape? That would not be an option, for those who did try were delivered worse than they could ever imagine. It was a horrific thought considering the worst had already happened to most.

For attempting to runaway was one very sure way to end at the merciless hands of the Dark Lord who was known for his patience in torture. The only reason they were kept alive so long was only to be as condemned to the devil as much as possible. Not like anyone had actually managed to escape anyway.

Now she was being sent to the jaws of someone she never even believed had the capability of being a Death Eater. Yet that was a long time ago and now a new dawn engulfed the horizon, painting the blood of even more of the innocent.


	2. She Contorted In Her Own Madness

Chapter Two

_She Contorted In Her Own Madness_

* * *

They came for her and Ginny that night.

It was always known that they would be transported once darkness had fallen, yet it always intrigued Hermione why they would be smuggled under such a veil. Three of them stormed the tent pulling Hermione roughly by hair. They ungraciously shoved them through the flap hole and into a jeering crowd of smelly, dirty wizards.

They held them there, showing them off to a long awaited audience. Cheers erupted as they continued to be dragged through the thousands of tents stacked within an exceedingly close proximity.

The camp was alight with the orange glows of fires the Death Eaters set up in their own quarters. The screams danced around as other girls ran in hysterics from their predators with no such luck. They chased after the young witches only to let them go again in a false and hopeless head start.

Hermione's legs stumbled pathetically underneath her but her trouble was little compared to Ginny's. Even under such circumstances an echo of her spirit remained. Upon being dragged, Ginny for the first time in their recent pairing stop shaking and became defiant, suddenly locking her body. In frustration a blonde man, slightly older than middle aged and far more presentable than the others did have a tight hold on the faded copper hair.

Without a moment's thought he pushed her violently to the ground. She did not flinch nor make an attempt to protect herself from the fall. Her hem line rose revealing the tarnished pale skin. Her hips were covered by deep red lines that shone black in the night. Bruises and swelling accompanied them and Hermione was also brought to a painful abrupt halt.

Ginny's Death Eater escort placed his hand into his well tailored and no doubt expensive jacket - Hermione had not seen such luxuries in a long time - removing his hand he clasped a dagger with the most unusual shape. It was reduced to a fine point yet curved similar to that of a bird's talon.

After a few moments of recollecting she knew at once where she had seen such a thing. The man smiled turning to Hermione, twisting the object through his fingers.

'Like what you see? I thought you would.'

He paced himself towards her, unequivocal to crowd and the motionless girl behind him. 'I hear that you were once the brightest witch of your age. Now tell me... How exactly does a nasty, foul little bitch like you call herself a witch?'

The cut of his tongue was well calculated, manipulating her insecurities, weeding her mind. He smiled once again, causing a revolution of tense fear in Hermione's chest. His hand moved in a split second opening the skin on her mud ridden cheek. It stung sharply springing tears to her already chapped eyes.

'I'll do worse than that Mudblood. Such a shame a pretty little thing like you is already so dirty.' A brief chuckle breezed past his lips.

Raising his empty hand he slowly pulled his arm back only to crash it into the laceration he had just cause. The pain forced Hermione's knees to buckle, pulling her skull away from her hair. The men around her roared in unison as the man in front laughed triumphantly.

He turned from her only to land his foot into Ginny's stomach. Her frail body bent in two as both girls were crippled with pain. Once again the man pulled Ginny from the ground with no concern on her capability to walk. Those behind them followed suit as the skin on the bottom of Hermione's bare feet began to break allowing the twigs and dirty to dig into her open wounds.

From then on they were marched through the camp followed by various insults and threats thrown their way.

After what seemed an eternity they were brought to the edge of the camp. The man had not once released his grip from the former Gryffindor, pulling her head backwards towards the black sky as they came to their stop.

There was no real need for their recent display - they could have been apparated within an instant. Yet this wasn't just a job to these men. It was who they were, **it was fun. **Before she knew it she was flashing past the countryside, as if forced through a very tight tube with not much room for breathing. As quickly as it begun the sensation stopped dropping Hermione to the stoney floor.

Although she had stopped moving the spinning continued to overtake her vision. It had been some time since Hermione had apparated and the effects began to take its toll on her body. She tried to decipher the contorted images in front of her. Geometric shrubbery and elaborate fountains flicked and spun with Hermione.

The never ending pathway she lay on, bordered off with bushes dragged her further into the darkness. The feeling became too much and the nausea exploded in her empty stomach. The bile rose up her throat burning it to cinders along the way, spewing out of her mouth. Her head began to pound as hard as ever, and her ears buzzed with an excruciating frequency. Only continuing to wretch, her arms collapsed underneath her, colliding her head directly with the floor.

_""_

_Her amber eyes darted around the courtyard. Plumes of black smoke appeared all around them. _

_More of them had been called and they were vastly outnumbered. Ron held her hand dragging her through the mass. Both sent curses in alternate directions without making a difference. The more hooded figures that fell at their wand seem to entice more into joining the battle. _

_Harry's plan had failed, Hermione had failed. _

_Everywhere they ran seemed as hopeless as the last. They were cornered, surrounded by an endless stream of black cloaks. 'We need to get to Harry! He's not strong enough to fight him on his own!' Her cries were nearly inaudible. _

_Crashes, screams and explosions were all that seemed to be around. However the Dark Lord and Harry were nowhere to be seen. The remaining two saw that their attempts only became futile, to be closed in by their predators. They were stuck in the centre with no way out. _

_Each spell they sent was countered as easy as the last. The enemy forces seemed impenetrable. Ron pull Hermione into his chest, squeezing her tightly to him for one last embrace._

_""_

A large building ahead of Hermione with painfully bright windows came into her vision in distorted rhythms. Her hair stuck to her face with a strong smell of vomit in addition. She bounced through the air trying to focus on anything that came to view. Her thoughts were hardly collected as a fog curled around her brain.

The nausea began to rise once again, and she continued to try her best and distract herself. The floor seemed three feet below and as her conscious regained she felt the heat of hands under her back and knees. Ginny stomped ahead, still prisoner to the refined Death Eater.

The building drew nearer with a large black door with an ornate M carved in silver on the front. They had reached their destination at last and a tense wave swept over them in the still night air. Once again they stopped with the starless sky the only reasonable sight for Hermione. She could not bring herself to look at her new prison, clearly Ginny felt the same. She promptly placed her head down as if her feet were the most interesting things she had seen in a long time.

Under any other circumstances Hermione would of taken this chance to escape, however she knew both her and Ginny were far too weak to flee from such men. Bravely she turned her head slowly, forcing her stomach to stay settled and she stared at the black door.

It seemed like a long time had passed and barely and breath was exchange between the four. Time ticked slowly for Hermione as she refused to take her eyes from the entrance.

She wished for death as she had every day for the last eight months and the imposing sight span her thoughts. Imagination took hold and fed indoctrinating images of torture and pain into the groggy amber eyes.

No comfort was sought from this and Hermione had the distinct feeling that whatever was behind that door was far more fearful that what she could only assume. After sometime the door opened revealing white marble, unnaturally contrasted to its surroundings.

A dark shape came into view and the blonde hair and pointed face of Draco Malfoy stepped through the threshold. In the instant of her mind registering whom this was, her body involuntary started to flay in the Death Eaters arms. Without a second thought the man removed his support from beneath her, leaving her to smash harshly on the ground.

A familiar laugh rang round them, setting her blood on fire as she pathetically tried to raise herself from the ground.

'What the fuck have you done to them? They smell like fucking pig shit.'

His cold drawl crawled over skin like dirty hands. She could feel a force simmering in the pit of her stomach. She could feel the hate and anger she built up for so long. This man... barely more than boy looked nothing more than horrifically amused. 'Bring them in, but don't let them on any of the carpets.'

He turned walking back through the doorway, and the all too recognisable hand curled around her arm forcing her upwards and forwards. Draco's footsteps danced around them as he marched through his exquisite hallway. It was wide with moving portraits of what could only of been Malfoy predecessors. The startling comparison between those she could only assume were dead and those alive cast an eerie atmosphere throughout the lengthily hallway.

'I hope you've been looking after them well Yaxley. You know how I don't like my goods to be... Damaged.' The drawl continued and the girls were discussed like cattle being put off to pasture. Of course Hermione was all to use to be treated in such ways. 'You know full well these little bitches would of got what they deserved. This little Blood Traitor though...' signalling Ginny the man pulled her roughly as if displaying a broken rag doll.

'Well, she puts up a good fight Malfoy. Or at least she did!'

All three men laughed together as if it was all some humorous anecdote. Hermione knew it could have been so much worse for her and the images of what Ginny could have been through brought a new wave of sickness in her body.

The hallway grew darker the further they walked into it with the paintings dispersing slowly. Malfoy stopped dead in his tracks almost causing the man behind him and Ginny to go straight into him. 'If I found out any one of those slimy dicks have been inside either of them, I'll make sure **you're** the one sucking it. And trust me, I will find out Yaxley.'

The older man's face stiffened in offence to the threat. His pause was long while each ear waited for a response.

'Unlike you Draco I have no interest in lowering myself to fuck either of these two. Regardless of who they are you know that is never my concern.' Draco smirked in the dim light and continued down the corridor.

Eventually they were brought to a solid single door. The door handle like many others in Malfoy Manor was carved into a serpent baring its fangs and forked tongue. Sliding the Hawthorn from his breast pocked, Draco hissed an incantation towards the handle with wispy white sparks to flow of out the end of the wand.

Hermione became transfixed to the magic, oh how she missed her wand. She missed the ability and more importantly the right to perform magic. Her wand could never be salvaged as it was lost and broken forever.

The memories of Ollivander's from her first trip to Diagon Alley surged through her being. She would never be allowed to return to those times nor would she grant herself that privilege. The magic illuminated the silver serpent only to bring it to life, letting it slither into the keyhole.

After a series of clicks the door unlatched itself, welcoming it's visitors.

'Leave them with me gentlemen, I'll fetch the elf to show you out. Now if you excuse I have some business to attend.' An evil smirk played on his lips, in a crack an ugly house elf appeared and without a word began to pace the long walk with his singular ear bobbing behind him.

The Death Eaters bided their goodbyes, releasing their grip of the girls and stalked back down the blackened corridor. The expression did not leave Malfoy's face as he lighted his wand pointing it into the mysterious room. Marble steps guided the descending pathway with alcoves places on either side. The steps seemed bottomless, as if this was the entrance to hell.

'Left alone at last... Well I won't forget my manners, ladies first.' Draco circle Ginny flicking locks of her hair with his wand. Her vacant expression gave no clue to her turmoil, and she stood there as docile as ever.

Pressing his wand into her back he walked forward leaving Ginny to proceed down the stairs. With Draco's back towards Hermione she saw her chance to run. Looking behind her, the idea seemed to escape leaving her behind. Draco by no means was a weak wizard and some kind of trap was bound to lie in her way.

Her options were limited, however there was something else stopping her from running. She already had Ginny ripped from her once before and whatever was to happen to her she would at least have a hand to hold this time.

The room to which they were lead was the most curious place Hermione had ever seen. The stone walls rose up high in an arch, a glass ceiling above them. Allowing a dim ray of moonshine to flow through, it weakly highlighted the emerald sheen of the walls rock face. A square marble structure lay in the middle with black tiles covering the subterranean ground.

Draco still had a hold of Ginny at wand point leading her into the centre. As they both walked into the moonbeam the tall young man extinguished his wand light. Draco releasing the contact from the small of the redheads back while Hermione continued to trail sluggishly behind them in attempt to not exert her wounds.

Bile was all she could taste and smell with her stomach giving harsh reminders of the acid that lingered. Her whole body was beyond excruciating and her legs bent awkwardly beneath her. As she persisting in holding on to whatever physical strength she might still possess, she persisted on. The journey had weakened her greatly and with every step she could feel her sanity edging away in the frustration of her inflictions.

Her peripherals darkened, looking through her new found tunnel vision she miscalculated her footing causing her ankle to buckle and fall clumsily to the ground. Her pains began to slowly dissolve as her conscious gave no attempt in stopping the black to ink her eyes.

The shattering pain in her shoulder was what stirred her consciousness. She could feel her joints being slowly dislocated as she found her arms impossible to move. The confusion of her position allowed her mind to snap, fully aware of the fact she was hanging in the air.

Thick, cold metal dug deep into her wrist that was high above her. Hermione could already feel the warm trickled of her blood tickling her arm. None of her previous aches had demised only to be accompanied by new ones. She flayed her feet shocked that they were not on the ground.

She was suspended high against the wall, with her head hung low. The darkness consumed her surroundings and a sharp brittle wind antagonized her open wounds. She tried to squirm free, or even to regain some comfort however the weakness was far too great and her attempts were nothing but a waste of time. Forcing her eyes to adjust to the environment the room in which she was in was completing bare, a stone dudgeon. Ginny was nowhere to be seen.

In an instant Hermione's brain began to synapse at full speed with a vice like grip of primeval force. Once again the innocent redhead had been snatched from her arms and lead into torture. Trying to steady her swirling vision she could feel the confusion in her brain beginning to swell.

Disorientation was all she felt as her body grew heavier, breaking away from her tender joints. A long piercing scream was forced out of Hermione as the pain became all too much. Her mobility was nonexistent as every movement became unbearable. It caused a nausea which was so powerful, mauling through her due to the agonizing position.

Her eyes began to subconsciously leak, yet her emotions had pushed far beyond the threshold to allow her to cry. The situation had gone from bad to worse and the constant suppression of hopelessness only felt more real.

Harry was never coming back. He didn't care, either that or he had been killed. The second of which Hermione still highly doubted. There was neither a plan nor an alternative. Death was the only comfort she sought now and even the luck of that was unlikely to pass. All the things that did once matter so greatly to her had all been torn away.

Nothing would be as it was and there was nothing to turn back to. The hatred of her new existence now manifested towards Harry. The never ending question groomed her mind. Not only did he abandon her but Ron and Ginny as well. Did he even have any idea of the echo left that once was Ginny Weasley? Hermione even struggled to comprehend the suffering that was bestow upon her younger friend.

Hermione's existence was no more than obsolete and neither was Ginny's. Both had little idea of what horrors lay their way and Hermione was fairly sure this was just the beginning. The difference between Draco and the others was that they just saw the two girls as filthy pieces of meat. Draco however knew them, he knew their insecurities, their weaknesses and most importantly, he has waited for this chance for a very long time.

She hung there in her cold stone cage listening to the fearful sounds of the night. No light penetrated her surroundings and whispers danced through the room toying with her sanity. Time slowly pressed on as Hermione slipped away from her supple shoulders. How long had she already been there? An hour? A day?

There was no time in a place like this. It was a never ending stream of pain and suffering. The rustled susurration spurred round her casting a cold invasive grip on her skin. The muffled voices seeped ever closer only to spring back to lurk behind every corner. Anxiety grew to the highest level as Hermione hopelessly scanned the dark room for her unseen enemy.

In a second the sound was upon her once again covering her in a crazed manifestation within her mind. A feral fear electrified through her as in a desperate panic she attempted to scuttle up the wall. Her chapped ankles grated across the rock face and a shrill frequency leapt out from inside Hermione. Screaming became involuntary as the voices crept under her skin. Her yells reverberated through the rooms, but as her cries intensified so did the whispering.

It felt like ants' eating her alive and the pure terror was mounted upon her. She could form no words nor any thought, her soul began to splinter apart as the piercing sounds was all that was left. The dull tones of voices died away but the fear lingered on. Hermione continue to scream and thrash, refusing to let the pain drag her down once again. Her shoulders began to crack as she contorted in her own madness.

Before long even the screaming became too much as Hermione erupted with a vicious cough. She could taste the familiar copper of blood shooting into her mouth. Even the screaming had been taken away from her. Silence deafened her as no more phantom noises presented themselves. Her shoulders were badly dislocated and her feet had begun to turn black from the dying skin tissue.

No matter how many times she wished death would sweep her way a great sadness cloaked her thoughts. She never wanted to die this way yet there was no other option left for the Gryffindor. Her anger over Harry's disappearance soared once again. An uncontrollable heat swelled in her chest. He left her to this. To be a pet to Draco Malfoy. Was this what he wanted her? For Ginny? He was meant to be their hero, their friend. Where was he? Ron fought until the very end. And Harry?

Hermione's thoughts began to twist. She couldn't help but blame the entirety of her circumstance on him. All of the pain she had been through, the beatings, curses, the slimy hands of Death Eaters... If Harry was not to die at the hands of Lord Voldemort's it most certainly would be hers.

Hermione wept for a long time, isolated in her mental disturbances. Flashes of deadly green lights hypnotised her brain, the explosion of rubble and the drowning screams of fear. Her mind was overrun with conflicts, yet at the thought of every scenario each had the same denominator; Harry.

If it wasn't for him god knows how better off her life would have been. Yet time after time she was walked blindly into danger because of guilt. Not once did she truly want to take part on such missions, she allowed her intelligence to be exploited. After all neither of the boys would of got this far without her. Besides, what kind of person would that make her? She was their friend, she loved them and friends do not leave each other. That isn't what their supposed to do, they stay, until the very end...

_""_

_'I just don't understand... How could all of this have gone so wrong?' Hermione voice was weak and barely audible. An old rotting table lay before her with their hero reduced to a mess of black swells and blood. The blood... It was everywhere, deforming Harry into a red kaleidoscope. _

_Nothing recognisable remained as the pain his soul bore was still etched upon his face. His unconsciousness unnerved her to the very core; by some miracle he was still alive but barely. 'I'm so sorry Harry...' Her voice trailed into an expected sob as she bent over the nearly lifeless form resting her head on his chest. The tears streamed freely, sliding down Hermione's cheeks, leaking into the open wounds that lay before her. _

_An apology wasn't enough, nothing would be enough. The war had naturally sent her emotions wild and the aftermath did not pity her either. She knew they were lucky to escape with their lives especially with Harry remotely intact. Yet the relief only confused the already peaking turmoil. _

_The matted bronze curls fell over Hermione's face as she threw her head from side to side. 'I'm so sorry Harry...' Over and over again she repeated her rasped reputes clenching at whatever unmark bit of skin she could find. Every part of him was covered in some kind of infliction, and looking at the devastation was enough to turn anybodies stomach. _

_Hermione however allowed his blood to smear her hands and face, she didn't care she just needed him to understand. She need him to know how much she loved him, how much she prayed that his existence, his destiny was not this. She knew no magic that could heal wounds that came with such evil and all she could do was wait and beg that not everything was taken from him._

_The warm touch of a soft hand clasped her shoulder sympathetically. It gripped her in such a way Hermione completely forgot about the situation letting herself seep into a swirling cloud. The scent filled her, and she sank into the familiar comfort of safety. Her fears began to ration as her eyes met that of Ron's. _

_In a sudden burst of desperation she needed him; she needed his solace and his release. Hermione could not deter from thinking of drowning herself in his arms. She needed to feel something, anything to know that she was still alive. 'I don't understand Ron. We were so close... How could we of failed so badly?' Regardless of her inner struggle her voice reluctantly slithered from her casting nothing more than the sound of the broken. _

_Hermione searched for an answer in Ron, one he did not have. Commiseration held his face as he too shared the grief of war. His voice matched hers; defeated and course. _

_'I know Hermione... But we're still alive. We just have to lay low. Recollect forces...' Ron let his hand slide from Hermione's quivering shoulder. Pushing herself up from her knees her frame and composure remained pathetic. Blood was painted across most of her front as she casted her tear ridden eyes towards Harry. _

_A fever boiled under her skin, 'we don't have time! I don't care about that, I don't care about anything! Not when Harry... is like this...' Her voice once again trailed to sorrowful muffles as she wrinkled her eyes in an attempt to prevent the tears from flowing. _

_How could Ron be so calm? This was Harry! He looked like half butchered meat, in the dark facts of reality he was nothing more. Ron began to speak once again, his voice tired but with the flat tone of exasperation. 'C'mon it's been a long day Hermione you need some rest.' It was useless, the young witch began to shake even more as she dropped to her knees leaning over the lost cause of Harry Potter._

_Gauges lay across his torso and swollen bruises tinged with black and purple began to circle the wounds. His ribs were visibly broken and the fact his lungs were not perforated was a miracle in itself. Hermione's spell had managed to stop the bleeding but the majority were far too excessive and untouched by any form of healing they knew. _

_His face was barely his own, his glasses were gone and the only other trace of his identity was underneath a lock of hair stuck to his forehead with red cement. 'I'm not leaving him Ron, we don't even know if... If he's going to make it.' The words sound surreal and her voice sounded so unlike her own. So many times she had feared for their lives, stood above both Ron and Harry unsure from one moment to the next. Yet this was different, all of this was wrong. Nothing felt real, as if all was nothing short of a bad dream._

_""_

The sharp sting of footsteps penetrated the surroundings causing a sudden stir with Hermione. Her eyes were large and mad, scared of everything around her. Stray, tangled, knots of hair threw themselves around her face. Her savageness resembled her to that of a Scarecrow, half demolished and impossibly pitiful.

Insanity dressed her in its sinister cloak, haggard and bruised, twitching in rhythm to her own reality. The air itself presented a threat as her body struggled in her mutilating bonds.

The footsteps echoed ever closer as she twisted her wrists further cutting her to the bone. The pain was nothing as a cold clammy sweat broke freely from her skin, sheathing her in moisture. The sounds teased her much like they done for hours but this time it brought something different, something more tangible.

Loud clanks of metal clasped against itself as a dull candlelight steamed into the room. Hermione could see the smug smile before her supposed owner even entered the room. His sharp silhouette marked perfectly in black attire, everything that was worn heightened and broadened the once weak looking ferret that was Draco Malfoy.

It had been many years since their first encounter, their whole relationship built on spite ever since. Hermione was oblivious of the fact that, like her both had had changed so greatly. Now she saw how life had manipulated him for the Devil's bidding.

Yet he terrified her, rending Hermione to a mess of panic. Screaming erupted through the room once again, Draco with his wand alight stormed towards his prisoner. He reached Hermione holding the wand close to her face. She became paralyzed waiting for his reaction, the light stinging deep behind her eyes. Flashes of red and yellow lights burnt like fire in her eye line.

'Back where you belong, don't you agree Mudblood?' He pulled the wand away from her face, only to use the light source the scan down her body. Hermione felt her skin melting at the thought of being enslaved to the Slytherin, involuntary she flayed her legs towards him. Draco in no surprised stepped back sighing desperately, examining her with disgust. 'It's funny how you're still arrogant enough to assume you'd be here for **that**. But I must say my aunt did a fine job of you...' He paused, passing judgment through his still grey eyes.

He held the light close to the top of her thighs, illuminating the many white scars streaked across her legs and hips. Suddenly the room felt safer compared to the company of Bellatrix. Hermione's eyes settled, focusing on the only light she had seen in so long. The rest of her body hung limply from her constricting reins and she ceased her cries of fear.

Something moved within her as if the panic and fear evaporated out of the room. She felt warm and safe, as if nothing had changed. The wizard who stood before her caught her wild amber eyes, looking intently into her soul. Becoming docile and numb Hermione swayed her head in the newfound refuge.

'It's nice to feel happy again isn't it? You always have a choice Mudblood.' His words confused her, her brain felt weary and her body felt heavy. The room was beyond torture, after countless hours she had endured enough. Now was her chance to get out but only in exchange to lie with Malfoy.

She felt like she deserved the punishment of the room for letting Ron die, for letting Harry escape, for abandoning Ginny. However to be Malfoy's toy was something different entirely. While she had a choice she would sooner die in the crazed dudgeon that be used freely by him.

'Leave.'

The word was blunt and strong, turning her head Hermione noticed the wisps of yellow feathered out of the Hawthorn. Her thoughts were clear and the spell only seemed to replace confidence instead of the possession that was intended. Her body and mind were weak and felt beyond repair, surely the Death Eater would have little trouble casting a successful Imperious Curse.

Everything she felt was a complete contradiction of what she knew, Hermione felt restored, fierce. Slowly it began to dawn upon her that it was Malfoy who was at her mercy. There was something he wanted from her, something he needed. Something he was not going to get.

'Fuck off Malfoy.' Her tongue cut with the same brutality as her shackles. The pain encouraged her spirit tempting her to take more. To embrace the agony as much as possible, it wouldn't matter, it only gave her strength. The pointed face before her turned into a sadistic smile. 'Very well. Somehow I don't think you'll be so pleased with yourself once the spell wears off.'

Twisting his mouth into a grimace, offence had clearly been taken and his wand turned lifeless at his side. It had little effect as the euphoria had already been captured in Hermione's heart. Turning without further comment Malfoy walked away from her with complete disregard. However Hermione's spirits had been lifted and the fire of the Gryffindor began to burn brightly once again. She could not be crushed; she did not allow it after Bellatrix, the war and especially the camps. Draco would not be the one to break her.

'Don't think anything's changed. I know the coward that are really are and so do you. You can't scare me.' Her voice sound that of a madwoman finally pushed over the edge. In her mind of course all seemed perfect reason, her tolerance for brutal chaos finally held its grip.

Draco stopped in his tracks as if still waiting for Hermione to say more. He turned his head, plastered in delight. Remaining where he was a chuckle bounced around them. 'Have you ever wondered whose fault it is that you're here? Precious Potter couldn't give a shit about you or his little girlfriend. He's the coward. Meant to be a hero wasn't he Mudblood? Couldn't even fight until the very end. Pity really.'

With nothing left to say he pursued out the stone cage shutting the entrance behind and locking Hermione back into the darkness.


	3. Simply She Had Been Saved

Chapter Three

_Simply She Had Been Saved_

* * *

She lay there in the hot steaming water, allowing it to caress wherever it pleased. The strong scent of warm, spiced apple lingered around her, soothing her inside and out. It seemed so surreal that after months of being trapped in the castle, of being constantly beaten and cursed - finally something felt nice. It felt amazing.

Floating around her was soft petals from various flowers, some she didn't even recognise. Not daring to open her eyes, her flowing red hair slipped off her shoulders falling down her back and into the water around her. She didn't need to move nor was a reaction necessary and the long white finger slowly paced itself alongside her neck.

Up and down the motion tingled her skin, electrifying her to the base of her spine. Everything felt so heavenly as her head fell backwards, exposing more of her neck. She could feel the warmth from Draco's torso against her as he sat down on the edge of the marble bath. Slowly more of his fingertips joined the dance stroking in one subtle motion.

The adrenaline spread through her body and the sensation felt like fire underneath her skin. Ginny's lips parted allowing a small breath of pleasure to escape fooling her further into bliss. Simply she had been saved. Saved from the horrors of what she knew, she owed her life to Draco. This was something she could never of imagined, however he was here giving her hope and strength. Harry was gone one way or another, and the solace of realisation had been given to her.

Up until now she had been abandoned by everybody. She watched everyone she loved die and leave her to her fate. Now somebody was here to stay, she saw the vision of survival within Draco. His sanctuary would protect her from the aftermath if she just played the along. Scooping his hand into the water Draco gathered as much as possible drizzling it across Ginny's shoulders. 'The Mudblood won't last much longer, soon you will have your friend.' His speech was low, curling softly around Ginny's ear. Nobody was around to hear regardless, yet the words were not what she wanted to hear.

'The Mudblood is not my friend.'

It had taken a few days for Ginny to recover her ability to talk. Of course once Draco had showed her nothing but kindness she soon learnt there was no need to be afraid anymore. She could talk without getting attacked or chased down for fun. Freedom had been restored and Hermione was not about to ruin it.

The purity of her environment carried her body removing all negativity. The youngest Weasley was only aware of the logic within her situation, in fact of every situation. Her silence was the protest for her struggles, not allowing the Death Eaters the one sound they craved so badly. Control would not be theirs and now finally her efforts had been praised.

Salvation was granted down upon her in the form of a past enemy. So many things had changed, people she knew she saw suffer and commit in ways she couldn't believe. Was it so impossible Draco had repented and had come to aid those most deserving? Hermione was just weak. Scared and worthy of her torture. She too was willing to betray those she loved to save herself, lying untouched in the camps while her friends screamed for mercy around her.

Ginny was one of those friends left to take the fall for the hero's mistakes. All were idiotic in the attempts to stop the Dark Lord, children running around believing they could make a difference. Sent on a wild goose chase by an old fool, none knew of the true courage it would take to succeed. One had to sin in order to gain the most valuable thing of all - the Dark Lord's trust. Draco understood of the dedication necessary to fulfil the task of prevailing. Ginny had been given a choice, to be condemned like so many others or to survive with empowerment and liberty. Those not worthy should be convicted to all the pain and punishment it would take to strengthen their faith.

Marks of torture still lay apparent across her pale skin yet no longer did it bring the shame and guilt. Ginny felt reborn, refreshed in the colourful assortment of petals around her. She forgot about Draco, about everything. Finally she felt a small light of peace all of which she entirely owed to the Death Eater who saved her soul.

The nights nonetheless remained difficult. Sometimes it still felt as if she was still locked away it that awful stone dudgeon. Her bruises had vanished thanks to Draco's healing yet the scars remains visible enough to opaquely shine against her already white complexion. The moonshine from the window brought out the silver embroidery across the black and gold Re'em skin cover. Sleep was not an option and she watched the bright stars dance their dance in the midnight sky. The bed she had been given was nearly as luxurious as the bath and silence fogged around her as the smooth feel of the bed sheets entombed her in a sarcophagus of comfort.

_""_

_The forced smashed into her mouth driving her into a solid wooden chair further injuring Ginny's face. She fell back in haze barely registering the pain, letting her half ripped out hair flay madly around her. Her mouth was full of warm thick blood, slowly trickling down her throat. __As it reach her stomach the urge to vomit raised back up the tract, yet she refused to be sick. Spitting the blood from mouth, the end of a boot connected with her face in an instant. She fell back, looking up at the wizard as he bent down slowly allowing his blonde ponytail to slide forward._

_'You're lasting longer than I expected tonight Blood Traitor. Maybe last night wasn't rough enough.' Yaxley lent right above seizing her arms with his terrorising hands, yanking her upright until her feet dangled pathetically above the floor. Her freckled nose was no more than an inch from his, as his soulless eyes challenged hers. _

_His voice was calm and poised 'I suppose you consider yourself something of a hero, do you not? Filth. Blood so pure, yet so tainted...' He wrinkled his nose his in own annoyance, examining the girl he gripped in his hands.__Without further contemplation he threw her into the wall adjacent to them, rending Ginny instantly unconscious. Taking a final glance towards the redhead he turned his sights to his robe sleeves, rolling them down from his evening exercise._

_He paced toward the door opening it wide to a masked Death Eater already waiting for the needed signal. 'Now, they've all got a big day tomorrow, the Dark Lords wants them nice and tidy for his show, don't overdo it.' Without further ado Yaxley left the room for his companion to take over the duties of torture._

_Ginny began stir as the heavy wooden door slammed shut with the equally heavy tread of footsteps. Slowly lifting her head the throbbing ache of her previous defeat took over her face as her eyes stared weakly through her copper hair. The wizard came to a halt not far from Ginny's face, looking down upon her with carved dragon bone mask. __Silver swirls framed the features as the blank face held its eerie gaze. He seemed to descend in height as his cloak lowered with him to the ground. A gloved hand reach out to her pulling the hair from her contused features revealing the water filled green eyes._

_The hand began to caress her cheek, careful avoiding what damage they could. Ginny began to breathe more anxiously, trying to suppress her torment even though now she knew all could be healed. _

_'Shh... I'm so sorry Ginny, I wish it didn't it haven't to be this way... I tried to get here as soon as I could.'_

_His soft words of comfort brought sorrow to her heart. She too wished it did not have to be this way. However this was what the world had become and it only was the beginning of a new era. Things were not about to changed, but there was something. A plan. _

_It had been hard to talk since being trapped in her former school only to be used as object worthy of nothing. Somehow she managed to find voice from within her, 'I know... It's just... Just please, make me forget...' The depressed voice trailed into gentle whimpers as Ginny could not bare to look at the wizard before her. His hand dropped from her face and she could hear the sigh under the elaborate, lifeless face. _

_'I've told you, it'll be worse when you can't remember and wake up to this.' A long paused trailed between as another sigh steamed into the cold room. 'I'm sorry Ginny but it won't help, this is the world we live in now and we just have to make the best of what we have. ' Ginny's eyes for first time looked towards the Death Eater as she bit her lip willing herself to not cry. 'Please...' Her voice was high and full of panic as her bruised face pleaded for help. _

_The leather hand sunk into the draping robes to gracefully pull out a wand that was not his but one he could dispose of after his task was complete. He held the tip to her face and began to sweep it through the air, '__Vulnera Sanentur...__'_

_""_

The Weasley awoke to a loud bang outside of her room. The startle of her waking created a paralyzing tingle throughout her body. She knew she was not asleep yet her mind still lingered in the trance of her dreams.

Her thoughts had become blank as her senses slowly began to return. Eventually the sensation subsided allowing her to push herself up against the headboard. Everything felt so still and yet Ginny couldn't understand why it all seemed so loud. She strained her ears in an attempt to hear another disruption yet the dull buzzing frequency was all she could hear.

Staring into the darkness she became unsure if there even was a sound, that it wasn't her head playing tricks on her. Her eyes seem impervious to their usual behaviour as Ginny stared blindly into the thick darkness. The only window in the room lay on the wall behind her preventing her from even seeing into the outside world. Somehow the fact that her vital sense was temporarily impaired brought a vibe of security around her. Obviously whatever she heard was not likely to sound again as she slowly slipped down back into to the bed.


	4. There Was No Need For Magic

Chapter Four

_There Was No Need For Magic_

* * *

The sweat felt heavy on Draco's brow, forcing the droplets to cascade down his face. His chest felt hollow and his stomach sank with a rumble as if inhabited by Gnomes. The parchment on the table brought dread he did not wish to seek, however the familiar handwriting only created further anxiety. The codes and puzzles had drained his energy and Draco glanced towards the clock hopelessly searching for the daylights hours. His hands had pushed the blonde hair far from his face only increasing his mental confusion, for the words seemed meaningless and impossible to decrypt.

Another piece of parchment laid adjacent, with a dried up yet exquisite turquoise quill, however there was neither writing nor any hint that Draco understood the letter what so sank back into the quilted chair, throwing his hands from his head to his lap. Sighing in frustration he pushed away the carved Greenschist glass table with the tip of his foot. Grabbing the edge of the chair the young Death Eater stood and wasted no time in reaching his drinking cabinet.

His Hawthorn lay on top yet there was no need for magic in such a rehearsed routine. Unlocking the cabinet with the release of a simple catch, the face opened descending into itself. Draco's hands wrapped themselves around the neck of a glass decanter, flicking the golden stopper - carved from the prongs of a Graphorn - with his thumb. Involuntary his free hand picked up a goblet ready to pour the drink and without hesitation he did.

By anybody's means his servings were not small, however the Firewhisky seemed to disappear in an instant of touching his lips. He swallowed with ease - a sure since Draco had begun to drink too much. The pointed nose twitched as it burnt down into the stomach, leaving a warm trail down his chest behind it. Still a hold of the decanter he poured himself another, gulping it as quickly as the last.

The pressure had not stopped since he enrolled into the ranks of the Dark Lord. Since being embossed with his mark he had been sent on suicide missions all in order to save his neck. Not like he really cared for that anymore, now he wasn't really sure why he was doing any of this. Before he had people who needed his protection, they were all gone now however. Throwing the thoughts abruptly to back of his mind, Draco ignored the goblet as he threw his head back in submission to the decanter of Firewhisky. Merlin, he **needed **this drink.

A sway filled his eyesight as he placed the objects back into their places feeling satisfied, at least for now. Closing away his escape, Draco turned back to look at the mystery on the table. There was no way he was returning to that letter tonight, so instead he took his wand and marched away from his headache. Entering the hallway he closed the door softly and began the lengthily walk to the dungeons.

Strolling down the corridor, the candles either side ignited the path for him. The moving portraits of his family and ancestors were all asleep, resting where they were painted. The calm rhythm of breath followed the footfall of Draco and continued to the end.

Reaching the imposing black door he possessed his wand holding it to the handle, 'exitus acta probat.' Upon his command the handle unravelled itself springing the door open for him. Light was not necessary as he took this trip frequently regardless of the entrapped Mudblood. He casually walked the flight of stairs descending deeper into the mansion.

The underneath of the house held a peculiar entrance, carved by ancestors, it instantly reassured anyone inside of it. In the centre was beautifully crafted bath tub that filled the occupied with a better sense of ease than the most powerful Imperious curse. This was not Draco's concern however, so ignoring the beautifications he was well acquainted with, he approach an inconspicuous wooden door.

Draco still grasped the wand and again lifted it smoothly towards the door handle. As it unlocked and open towards him, the Death Eater stepped back, admiring the thick metal vault door that stood behind it. Lowering his voice, his tongue became almost serpentine as he forcefully hissed the required words. 'Prefer et obdure; dolor hic tibi proderite olim.' The wheel began to turn sounding the orchestra of metal and before it even opened the screaming had already started.

He did not need to step into the room to identify the cries of terror. Draco held his poise listening the heartbreaking sounds of the forsaken. However he was more surprised than anything.

It had never taken more than a few hours to break a person in one these rooms, the Mudblood on the other hand had managed to subdue it for three days. She had no chance of living any further and her yells only confirmed that suspicion. After spending most of the evening running around in circles on ridiculous codes Draco wasn't prepared to try and talk to a madwoman.

To his ears it sounded almost as if she had been sent too far, that maybe even magic wouldn't be able to revert her. That wasn't the exact plan though was it? To have either of the girls with a perfect mind would be a very dangerous situation indeed. Draco was no fool, the Blood Traitor was as fierce as she was powerful and he regretted to say that the Mudblood had the most extraordinary skills he had ever seen. All wasted however.

The piercing to his ears caused no more than boredom and indifference. Neither disgust nor pleasure seeped from his duty and he began to walk into the room without further thought. Pulling the door behind him it clasped against the framing, forcing the former Gryffindor into a more increased sense of panic. The noise became higher, telling Draco all he needed to know. 'Lumos.' A small light, enough to highlight around him, appeared at the end of his wand. The light caught the prisoner's eyes, startling the young wizard.

Her eyes were red raw, rolling around her socket as if not attache,d as well as the hair that tangled around her bloodied face. She had become demonic and Draco was very careful as to where he stood in fear of flaying legs. Many sights he had seen, yet this was the most pathetic he had seen any victim. A strange feeling suppressed under his skin, he could see the cruelty of what he had done and he was not proud of what he had inflicted.

Brutality and sadism did not concern Draco and that was not why he had gone to Hermione. Her body refused to cease it unnatural twisting as no thought could penetrate Draco's mind. The cries had transformed in rasped wheezes slowly quietening, however he did not move from where he was standing only to continue to look with revulsion towards his Mudblood captive.

Something about her behaviour riled him and he could feel the hot sensation in the pit of stomach boiling through his bloodstream. He forced himself to look at her, building up a need so intolerable his hands began to shake and his face turned into a sickening grimace. A sweat built up around the Hawthorn he held in his hand, as the light itself had begun to flicker around the room.

In an instant it was too much and the anger surged freely through him. Within the blink of an eye Draco had forced himself towards the girl pinning her limbs to the wall above him. His wand had fallen to the floor with a clutter the moment he leapt towards her. Hermione's body froze as Draco slithered his hands around her throat muffling the excruciatingly irritating whines.

Her eyes found no rest as they continued to look everywhere but him. The infuriation of it all broke into his hand further cutting off Hermione's airways. How dare the Mudblood even in such circumstances defy the look of her master? Draco's grip was absolute as he slid her up the wall, her body growing limper and far less defiant than before.

'You will look at me.' The cold drawl rang round, and the crazed amber eyes met that of the silver. As her obedience increased the Slytherin released the tension ever so slightly. Like every other piece of filth she needed to be trained regardless of how weak she had become. If she could not be trained, she would die in the gutters where their kind belonged. Their last encounter was fuelled by a successful Imperious curse, one to restore sense of well being and safety rather than complete control. Draco knew Hermione's arrogance and had implicit trust than this would prevail, causing her enough strength to survive the dudgeon. After all a prize like her is no good dead.

He stepped away dropping his hold of Hermione causing her to swing agonizingly in her reins. Silence had captivated her as she hung from her suspension, allowing Draco to return to his wand. Picking it up gently, he turned back towards Hermione and raised the wand to her shackles.

'Now listen very carefully to me, Mudblood,' he crept his arm around her waist as he aimed high at the metal cuffs. Tapping them both in succession they released without hesitation, dropping Hermione carelessly into the arms of Draco. Hoisting her over his shoulder he took a steady turn to walk out of the dudgeon, 'I cannot afford to have you disobeying my authority. The room was a precaution you see. Just so you understand where you will end up if you...'

Hermione began to regain some sense of reality, attempting to squirm free of the blonde's grasp. She proved unsuccessful, barely able to open her eyes let alone escape from the clutches of a Death Eater. Draco adjusted her positioning over his broad shoulder as she subsided back into unconsciousness. There was no need for any kind of conversation anyway - there would be enough time for discussion later.

As he carried the girl out through the two doors, he could feel the sharpness of her bones digging into his skin. Her malnutrition was in no way doubtful as she was little trouble to support. She swayed unceremoniously as Hermione was clearly unaware of what was happening to her. Charming the doors shut with a brush of his wand, he began to walk though the emerald stone cave.

He approached the bath having little difficulty in transporting Hermione manually and with equal ease, lowered her into the middle of the empty structure. She did not surface or appear to have any sign of life.

Looking down at her, Draco contemplated whether it was worth the pain it would cause in reviving her. He had never been down to camps nor had he witnessed the victims it had produced. Of course he heard all the hearsay, the reports from Bellatrix and Yaxley. Now he knew all he heard was true, if anything an understatement of the true horrors. Even the castle wasn't this bad.

Sighing in contempt he pointed the wand to the edge of the bath, instantly creating steaming, scented water. He debated in whether to strip her of that awful rag, yet the disgraced visible body of a Mudblood was not something he wished to see. Instead he clicked the fingers of his free hand and in response a small puff of smoke erupted next to him.

Underneath the smoke lay the one eared house elf ready to serve his master. In a lot of ways it reminded him of Kreacher – the house elf to the Blacks. In comparison Verrill was perhaps more repulsive for the lack of one his monstrously oversized ears.

'Yes, master sir. Verrill to your best services master sir.' The elf looked up to Malfoy, waiting eagerly for his command. Draco however could feel the recognisable pain behind his eyes and he had no patience to stay awake any longer. 'Just do something with her.' Bowing to his order to house elf hurried over to Hermione who now was completely surrounded by the blissful water.

Aware of what needed to be done - Draco left the room swiftly and headed for the set of stairs leading back up into the mansion while leaving the product of devastation behind.


	5. Some Scars Would Never Heal

**Just a quick note to all;**

**I think it's about time I thank everybody who has given their time and patience in reading my story so far. I can't explain how grateful I am to all those who have put the effort into delving into what I've wrote. Of course this isn't exactly an Oscar acceptance speech however it is one thing for a writer to be a complimented but really the reader should have greater if not more admiration purely due to their patience. Thank you all once again and hopefully the continuing chapters can make justice of the first few.**

**Needless to say I doubt this Chapter would ever have been made if it wasn't from the support and nagging from my darling boyfriend Calum and my friend Marta.**

**So I hope you all enjoy with my last final thank you! xx**

* * *

Chapter Five

_Some Scars Would Never Heal_

* * *

_""_

_The explosion of spells began to crash around within an instant. The exits were covered by Snatchers, all in their black ripped robes with the look of delight on their faces. Hermione turned to the tall boy next to her - she could see the terror run through Neville's expression. They had been found._

_Her eyes met that of the dark wizard right ahead of her - she had already noticed the twitch of his hand. However Hermione knew she was far away from her wand. _

_She pushed Neville to the ground without a second thought, following the momentum of her own force. His body gave little resistance as they collided with the surface underneath them. _

_As they hit the floor she could feel the heat of the curse that flew over their heads. _

_She lifted her head, only to see the wooden planks above her cascading down through the air. A sharp squeal escaped her as she threw her head back down into Neville's chest. They collapsed around her causing a fog of dust to cloud around them. _

'_Come on!' _

_Hermione grabbed Neville's jumper by the collar pulling both of them up right. Looking around nobody could be seen. It appeared that they were the only two to remain. _

_There was no time to think and the veil of dust could only protect them for so long. Misted beams of light soared and encompassed them. Deep incoherent yells and shouting was all she could hear as Neville tried his best to protect her from rays. _

'_P... Protego Duo.' _

_Clumsily he circled his wand around himself and Hermione._

_A faded blue light gleamed around them spherically, allowing the curses to bounce of it, leaving the two unharmed. Hermione desperately tried to blink away the blur, hoping she could at least see her assailants. Yet the flashes distorted her eyesight and all sound was impossible to differentiate. _

_Carefully avoiding the debris around her, Hermione crouched low in order to get a better view of the skirmish. She could see the legs of many rushing in and out of the doorways, congesting the far corner of the hut. They all seemed to be as disoriented as the last - their feet scuffed around in a uneasy manner, all unsure where to turn. _

_The unmistakable black Converse's came into view and she knew at once they were safe. _

_Hermione could see no tactical route. Although Neville was holding the protective charm, a large pile from ceiling still laid on the floor before them. If she called out to Harry then the Snatches would know for certain whom they were fighting. That she couldn't risk._

_Darkness engulfed them, dragging her memories away. _

_Cold metal clasped around her wrists yanking her arms high above her head. The pain came surging into her shoulders as the haunting feeling of the stone cage wrapped around. Hermione knew it would not be long before she heard she the incessant whispers._

_""_

Her waking was slow and uneven, she was unsure if she even wanted to open her eyes. Hermione felt like she was swimming with ease, allowing the current to take her anywhere it wished. The foul smell of the camps had disappeared and was replaced with a sweet yet sour smell.

However it wasn't the same sourness of the camps where bodily fluids had mutated in their air. This was different. It was beautifully warm reminding her of the Gryffindor common room, Hogwarts and her home.

It had been a long time since she had thought about home. Since the age of eleven her life was split by prejudice and fears she couldn't understand. Her parents of course knew of her magical ability, yet there was no one else outside Hogwarts she could tell. Within the wizarding world it was different - she made a name for herself, known for her intellect. As well as the stigma that landed her here.

She had comfort in the fact she knew that her parents were across the other side of the world, unaware of her existence due to a very powerful Obliviate curse. Nobody was aware of her existence and nobody certainly cared that she was here. Wherever she was.

Her hallucinations had warped her mind, leaving her unsure and untrustworthy of everything around her. She would not lay faith in her insanity and was fairly sure her new found surroundings were just another mirage. A small boney hand – similar to that of a child's - was laid upon her head.

The blackened horizon seeped from view, bleeding into the distant light. Sounds muffled around her and none became distinguishable. Hermione could feel the heat steaming around her as the expected pain soothed her into the furnace that tickled around her. It curled between her toes and fingers, clenching at the convulsion in the bladder.

Hermione couldn't remember the last time she went to the toilet of her own accord. While under the possession of the Death Eater's, that privilege among all the others had been taken away. There were times during her first months of imprisonment where they would deny her that basic function. Only to laugh at her when the burn became so unbearable she couldn't hold it in any longer.

This time was no different, the gentle tingle subsided as she released into the water. As Hermione's breathing slowly began to pace into normal rhythm, her chest fell to the heavy pressure restricting her airways. The tenderness throbbed under her ribcage as she forced a cough from herself.

As her body reluctantly reacted she gained her senses slowly. She felt as though she was circled by water, drowning her in its soothing blanket. Opening her eyes gingerly, a blur casted around her and the small outline on the one eared elf focused into view.

'Nice to see you awake miss, most certainly is.'

His voice was high and seemed too distant for something so close. Hermione could see and feel all around her but her brain became resistant to interpreting all there was. As the elf's puerile voice reached her ears, Hermione felt herself rise from the sea she appeared to be in, watching herself down below.

Her being haunted the atmosphere as she disconnected further from her corporal form. It became a cinema of devastation, the picture of herself flickered in her eye line the same as a broken film reel. She felt reborn as her energy lingered around the bath.

The half-conscious state that she was once in had completely evaporated - she felt nothing a part from the paralysis of trauma.

'Great rest must be taken miss, Verrill will take care of all, you will take great rest now.'

She watched him taking his hand from her head, crouching below the bath. The young witch inspected the elf as he appeared to be completely oblivious of her new form.

Hermione forced her senses wide, trying to identify what she could. She willed herself back into her body, regaining her normal point of view. The casing of water curled around her, as she looked down, she was protected by beautiful flower petals. They danced on the surface, creating a florescent mirage of jolting colours.

Their brightness captivated her, swirling her with a whirlpool of pinks, oranges and yellows. It stung her eyes to see the startling hypnotic pattern they caused - Hermione felt as though she was not worthy to lay her eyes on something so amazing. She barely felt human, distant from everything.

As the floral decoration laid parallel to her chest, their scent began to fill her nose once again, replacing the death with its incinerating charm. The shame swept away along with the dirt as she for once, began to feel cleansed.

In an instant grip of panic, Hermione shot up causing the water to thrash backwards and forwards. Looking down the side she saw the elf tracing his fingers along the frame, leaving an orange glow trailing behind.

Verrill's bulging eyes peered up towards the girl in the bath.

'Not to fear, not to fear. Verrill will make all well. Take your great rest miss.'

His words were foreign and the confusion mounted within Hermione's thoughts. Everything seemed so out of control and every action that had been embarked upon her was not of her choice.

The sense of floating took hold once again, as she realised her pains were completely diminished.

Pulling her hand's softly out of the water she brought them close to her face, inspecting every detail she could. No long did her fingers appear crippled and her nails looked better than they had done in so long. One's that had been removed during torture had been replaced as though they were never missing.

Looking towards her shoulders – the part that possibly had the most pain inflicted upon – they were shaped back into their feminine sockets. Although the bruising still left a purple echo across her skin, the majority had all disappeared.

Her hair… Grabbing at her locks, she could feel the thickness, the curls and the strength it had gained. Attempting to drag her fingers through it, she discovered the vast amount of knots that still remained. However it was irrelevant, as Hermione felt far better than what she thought she deserved.

It overwhelmed her far too much as she burst into hysterical tears - holding onto it as she would to a long lost friend. She sank back into the water allowing the tears to join her watery vessel.

The elf meanwhile, continued the enchantment on the bath wall. Not phased at all as he allowed Hermione to cry. She almost felt as if she had finally died, the pain lingered no more and her body felt free.

Sniffing deeply, she struggled to control her breathing as she lowered her arm back into view. The 'Mudblood' unfortunately, still remained.

Some scars would never heal, however she twisted her arms in disbelief – unable to comprehend how it came to be. The dizziness had not parted and the ache to her head would probably never leave.

Yet it was a miracle. She never thought she could experience anything like it.

A distant vision lay in the front of her mind, painting the image of Draco. His fingers were tight around her throat and she struggled for breath. As she closed her eyes to the image she was unsure of whether it just lay as just another dream. Recently it was always difficult to tell the truth amongst her distorted madness.

As she imagined the grip growing stronger, she inhaled deeply, falling into soft sobs. Why was she here? Her memory was vague as all had merged together, unsure of the sense of passing time. Verrill the elf remained silent through her tears.

The despair sank through her she slid further into the water. Beginning to feel weightless, Hermione stared blankly into her hands. _Why am I crying? _As soon as she processed the unusual query a haze suddenly poisoned her mind, rendering it empty to the core.

Lifting her head to her surroundings she gazed into the dark cave and admired the bath below.

A shock jolted through her, as she reacted sharply folding both of her arms across her chest. _Oh Merlin, what's happened? _Hermione's brow knitted in thought. She didn't dare removed the petals that dwelled on the water's surface. However she knew that her body lay bare as the embarrassment grew.

A slight mutter could be heard, as she strained her ears it was impossible to tell where from. Casting her eyes around, she saw the corner of a pointed pink ear bouncing at the side of her. Daring to look over – while making sure she held her arms securely over her – she saw the sight of the one eared elf.

Bewilderment ran through her mind, _what an earth is going on? _The small creature appeared to be performing some kind of spell on the wall of the tub she was in. He did not notice her, yet she felt incredibly awkward nonetheless.

Clearing her throat, it appeared to be remarkably course and stung before she even opened her mouth.

'He… Hello…' The young witch's voice was hoarse and quiet but the elf looked up regardless. 'Hello miss!' Verrill's squeaky voice caused a chill in Hermione, yet his beaming smiled offered slight reassurance to her.

'Ah, great rest was taken miss! Verrill has fixed all.' He removed his spindly finger instantly ending the orange radiance he was previously creating. However Hermione struggled to comprehend the words, only adding to the mixed thoughts that had somehow began to manifest deep in her heart.

'Excuse me? It's just… I have no… Idea… What's going on?' Her voice rose towards the end as the worrying panic surged through her. After all she had just woken up in a luxurious bath with no understanding in how it came to be. The elf seemed unmoved, continuing with his bright happy expression.

'No need to fear miss. Master will explain all! Miss is in good hands.'

It echoed through her, the word 'master' over and over. Who was this elf's master? Suddenly a horrid feeling rippled over her skin.

'Who is your master?'

Fearful of his response, his question barely passed her lips. She highly doubted that whatever the answer would be, it would not be good.

Verrill took time in his reply, clearly deep in thought. Hermione had never known an elf to take so much time in what would be a very simple question.

'Master Malfoy of course miss.' His voice lay unusually flat compared to the frequency he was previously emitting prior.

_Malfoy… Oh no…_

A stricken fear grabbed her heart, forcing its tight clench around it. In battle, it began to beat faster. The sweat formed in unison and her whole body began to shake.

Looking down she became paralysed. The only two things she was sure of were that she most certainly was not clothed and that she was under the same roof as Malfoy. Hermione's stomach churned as she couldn't bear to imagine how she happened to be here, in this particular position.

'Your name… Verrill? Isn't it? I need you to get me out of here.' Trying desperately to rush her words, the thought lit up inside of her. Of course. Harry.

Why he wasn't he here she could not say, although his far away image blurred in her memories. Yet a warm feeling cuddled in her chest as she knew that he would come to save her. There might not have been anyone who knew of her whereabouts but she knew Harry would find away.

'Yes miss! Verrill will bring clothes'

The elf clicked his fingers. Appearing through the smoke, Verrill held in his hand a fresh set of robes and towels. Placing them on the side, he looked uncomfortably towards the girl.

'I'm sorry miss. But Master request I stay.'

A sigh left her, however a growl erupted in her stomach. She felt like she hadn't eaten for days, as the cramp burrowed deeper. Hermione knew that is was better not to argue with the creature.

'Okay, but… Turn around or something…'

A perplexing expression wore through on his wrinkled face - however he turned to look the other way nonetheless.

Searching the room for a better solution, Hermione curled her fingers around the edge and pulled herself up out of the water.

Her balancing wasn't very accurate but cautiously she stepped one foot at a time out of the bath. In a shameful fumble, she managed to wrap the towel tightly around her.

The sight of her own body caused her to take a slight stumble backwards. She looked horrific - every part of her was clinging to her bones. _What have they done to me... _Exploring herself with her eyes, she looked down to her legs, which resembled about the same thickness as a bowtruckle.

Verrill changed directions eagerly, looking hopeful towards the former Gryffindor. 'Come with Verrill miss. Food and sleep awaits!' Plodding into the shadows, Hermione quickly grabbed the robe that lay adjacent to her and followed the elf.

As her sight adjusted it wasn't long before the elf approached a stone door. Without hesitation he laid his skeletal hands upon it, allowing it to open wide.

Hermione followed him curiously into the dark room. Verrill clicked his fingers once again, instantly bringing the alcoves to life with a singular enticing flame.

Staring in amazement into the room, it resembled greatly to the room Hermione had at Hogwarts. A majestic four poster bed - with exquisite red and gold drapes to accent it – lay with strength in the heart of the room.

A large fireplace stood, circled with floral patterns that were carved into the piece. Warming rugs and wooden tables lay all around. Yet it was the marvellously packed bookcase that caught her eye. _This is fantastic._

Hermione clung to the robe in her emaciated arms as a smile broke free on her face. The house elf noticed as he too smiled in response. 'Get nice miss. Verrill will get miss's food.'

She gazed down at the elf, truly grateful for the kindness he had shown her. Needless to say, Hermione wasn't use to such treatment. However she reciprocated the warm expression with ease as Verrill turned to leave the room.

As the creature took to the exit, the door slammed behind Hermione. Casting her eyes around the room, she could feel a pull with inside her mind. It was the collision of the wood as it vibrated the recesses of her soul.

She was back.

The cold took over first, freezing every molecule within her. The agony had not been healed - merely hidden. The docile burn began to tingle its way back through her skin.

Abruptly the room felt like it turned it on itself, forcing the luxuries into the cold, damp, stone cave. Her lucidity remained entirely blank once again. All Hermione knew was the pure fear.

Nothing was safe. She knew all too well that at any moment, danger and harm could be placed upon her without a second thought.

Her knees began to feel weak and she slowly edged towards the bed for support. Gripping tightly to it, her fingers curled into the woven material as she slid to the floor pathetically.

As a clammy sweat broke free onto her hands and face she felt swallowed by the voices of the past.

_""_

_Hermione stared down below to him - repeatedly she performed the same routine, watching... waiting. It became hopeless, believing desperately in nothing. She had spent many wasted hours in silent prayer, that one day, Harry would awake. _

_The former Gryffindor had given up on the use of magic and whatever was keeping Harry alive was far beyond her. Even if he did come to, it had been two months since the battle. The extent of his physical injuries and certainly his psychological were yet to be discovered._

_Before Hermione could help it, a single tear rolled down her face dripping onto the boy below._

_The door opened to her right, making her jump slightly. She instantly raised her hand to wipe the moisture from her face._

'_Sorry…' Ron poked his head round the door - his mouth dropped as usual. However he softened his eyes in sympathy towards Hermione. 'Everybody's ready Hermione.' Ron forced a half smile towards her and reluctantly casted his eyes upon Harry. It still wasn't a pretty sight. _

_He closed his eyes to the injuries, removing himself from the doorway and retreating to join the others. Hermione however allowed her thoughts to trail trying desperately to not lose composure. _

_She was sick of constantly worrying about Harry, about whether or not the only safe place that remained would be discovered at any moment by Lord Voldemort's followers. _

_Hermione needed the strength that her friend could provide. She wasn't fit to be a leader and as much as it pained her to say, nor was Ron. She was grateful to him for what he had given in terms of security and practicalities. He meticulously planned over and over on how to scour the groups of Death Eaters that wandered the environment. _

_Additionally, he planned and instructed on how to take them out and most importantly how to avoid them. Ron had held the group together in times of criticalness and installed the faith which was the key to their survival._

_Her pitiful expression forced her curls forward, her heart fracturing away a tiny bit as always did. Knowing there was nothing more she could offer – aside from more sorrowful gestures – she turned her back on the unconscious Messiah._

_When Hermione entered the room, everybody's glum faces distributed an equal dose of misgivings. After all, nobody expected her to bring good news. However **any **news would have been a warm welcome._

_Ginny and Ron had already set up the maps and intelligence regarding the details of the Death Eaters. Both stood at the far end of the table, identically tapping their wands in frustration against their legs._

_Cho, Luna and Romilda all chose to sit on the impossibly uncomfortable wooden chairs, while all the boys chose to stand around the wall of the room. _

_Hermione's tired eyes searched all the faces in there as she steadily walked over to Ron's side. Her brows furrowed as she interpreted the map that was sprawled across the lengthily dining table. She traced her finger over a large red cross that marked their last success of triumphing against the Death Eaters._

'_Well I suppose we should get straight to the point.'_

_Ginny's voice broke free into the constantly tense atmosphere holding its usual tone of annoyance. She fell onto her hands as she placed them upon the table and gazed fearlessly around the room._

'_Killing them isn't enough anymore. We need information.'_

_Everybody stiffened more so, as they all refused to reciprocate a direct look. Hermione inhaled deeply as she found the courage to speak. _

'_We don't know anything. Hogwarts could be destroyed, Diagon Alley… Gone. We need to know what's going on without endangering ourselves.'_

_Her words hung in the air as she prayer her more diplomatic approach would perhaps sit a bit better than Ginny abrasive manner._

_She was lost for what say as she hoped that somebody would provide her with some kind of reassurance. Hermione didn't approve of the idea in anyway - to purposely go out, to hunt, to torture an individual. Death Eater or not, she never wished that it would come to such measures._

_Her concerns seemed transcribe as George took a step away from the wall, his scared face coming into view. _

'_There are other ways Hermione.' _

_His deep voice shattered through her, sadly there was no other way. _

_Unfortunately Hermione didn't want to argue, she needed an excuse to not execute this mission. Miserably she also knew that the two youngest Weasley thought it was completely necessary. _

_Ron scrunched his face as his slowly took in George's words. Things had not been the same since the battle, especially between the remaining three Weasley's. _

_Molly, Arthur, Percy, Fred… All perished into the rubble before their very eyes. Charlie and Bill managed to disapparate however, but where they were or even if they were still alive no body was sure of. _

_In the months since, nobody had time to grieve for the so many loved ones lost. Not one night did somebody achieve a full night sleep. Food was scarce as all their magic grew weaker by the day due to the extreme stress they had all been put under._

_Turning to his to his older brother his words pushed past his clenched teeth._

'_Don't you think we've done them all mate? There is no alternative George. It's done.'_

_As Hermione judged the remaining twin's expression Ron's anger was evident to all._

'_What do you mean it's done?' The volume of his exclamation caused the two brunette girls to twitch in their seats._

'_I don't remember anyone putting you in charge. Last time I checked we all had a say!' _

_Bellowing his speech Hermione was thankful of the extremely powerful silencing barrier that protected their whereabouts. As she saw the blood run to Ron's ears, the Death Eaters became the last of her priorities. The one thing they didn't need was a brawl between the brothers. _

_Hermione noticed the inner battle Ron held attempting to contain his natural instinct. He contracted his fists in an effort to patience his words._

'_Well if you have any better ideas George, be my guest.'_

_He held his stare towards the taller of the two as everybody try to find somewhere else to look. Hermione however, took George's silence as a response and decided to continue explaining their newly formed plan._

'_We need to understand what they have planned. What they know about us, what's going on. We have no idea how to win this battle without…'_

_His name was still difficult to say and she noticed the tension on Ginny's face towards Hermione's hesitation. There was friction between everyone - sometimes in these types of situations the only way to cope was to blame others. _

'_We're doing it tonight, we know that they'll be about three miles from the left bank. If we leave now we should be able to intercept their patrol in the next hour.'_

_""_

Hermione's hysteria grew and her breathing had created hyperventilation in her chest. The tears were streaming as the past memories of loved one's haunted her. She **needed **Ron and Harry at her side. It was completely unforeseeable how she would live without them.

All the cognition she held was a jumble of mixed images. Times, dates, events, hallucinations… Everything was impossible to decipher. Glimpses of Death Eater's fists, of friends being murdered and hopeless flickers of outlines her brain couldn't seem to manage.

Her skull felt as if it was splitting, overloading from the various exposures she had be subjugated to. Nothing appeared to make any coherent substance as it haemorrhage into one another.

Clawing at the rugged floor beneath her, the sweat flowed to her palms sliding them out from underneath her. Falling with a careless thud onto the surface under her, she made no attempt to protect herself. Continuing in hysterics, her cheeks pushed into the textured material obtaining the liquid that sluiced from her eyes.

Everything seemed a muddle of a lies and of untrustworthy truths - she couldn't even believe the environment she was in. Hermione's breathing continued it extremities and her throat began to dry even more from the rasped gulps of air she refused to cease in her turmoil.

A large puff of smoke steamed in front of her causing a loud scream to pierce the air. Verrill's face instantly expressed a panic and shock to Hermione's reaction.

'Miss! Miss! What's wrong miss!'

He placed down the silver tray that was littered with various foods onto the bed and he rushed to Hermione's aid.

Upon reaching her Hermione regained some strength, pushing herself up from floor not masking the crazed upset she felt. Grabbing the elf by his twig like arms she shook the small creature violently unsure of what she sought.

'Where are they! Where's Harry!'

The untamed savage beast possessed her speech as she screaming through her tears into Verrill's face. Unsure of what to do the elf became expectantly fearful of the young witch.

'Be calm miss! Please miss! Miss isn't think straight!'

His high pitched voice stuttered into Hermione's ears as it lay fragmented through the way it was interpreted. Hermione didn't need to hear his rationality. She needed answers.

'Where is Ron and Harry! Why am I here!'

Her voice rose until it was the only thing that could be heard, even the dull breeze that punctuated the air seemed to retreat in fear.

'You are here miss because Master requests it.'

His petrified squeak trailed into a demur statement and Hermione dropped her grip from the spindly arms. She was here was because 'Master' requested it.

Why was Draco so adamant on keeping her here? Why was she locked away and then treated in luxury? The most important question she detained was that why hadn't Harry come to rescue her?


	6. Today Will Be Full Of Surprises

Chapter Six

_Today will be full of surprises_

* * *

The emerald and silver tantalized the air as Ginny saw the shimmer in her own eyes. Gazing intently into her own reflection she admired her own beauty, slowly tracing the rouge along her cheekbone.

The soft tickle of the brush soothed her skin as she found it impossible to rip her stare from the mirror before her. Its gothic style frame took up a large proportion of the wall, hosting a delicate glass dressing table. The surface was spoilt by the most fastidious cosmetics and perfumes, all with their own delightful stone or metal casings.

Her feet were bare, hovering slightly over the stone cold floor. The long white robe she wore contended with marble underneath her as the edging flowed around her ankles, enveloping them in the laced material.

Dipping the brush in the pink powder once again, Ginny raised her hand tenderly to the other side of her face. She applied it to both cheeks until they were equally accenting her sharp features with success. Pursing her lips she was satisfied with her appearance.

Placing the brush in perfect symmetry with all of her other components, she did not once peel her eyes from the image in front of her.

The moonlight had final broken free of the midnight clouds, sheathing the room in its glorious beam. Tiny flecks of dust danced in its light and the ornate details of the room could finally be seen. However the adoration Ginny held for herself was far too great to take any interest in her materialistic possessions.

Closing her eyes she smiled to herself sweetly, bringing her hand into her silken red hair. The soft ribbon like locks fell between her fingers, and a warm presence filled her. Removing one of her hands from the flowing copper strands, Ginny guided one of her fingers up along the side of her neck.

She traced it carelessly allowing the sensation to fill her. Her imagination took over her senses as she felt Draco's hand instead of hers. She felt as if she in the bath once again with the Death Eater behind her stroking her neck.

The room seemed to illuminate, exploding with light, as Ginny sunk deeper into her thoughts. Regardless of the scene she had painted herself, the perception of Draco became real as she knew he had arrived.

Fluttering her heavily made eyelashes, she half opened them the saw the reflection of pointed face standing behind her.

Ginny almost laughed to herself and she felt smugly in control. Draco was not once invited, yet regardless he made the same visit every night.

'Yes?'

Her voice was steady and clear, her false indifference gave no reaction to the former Slytherin. Without making any expression he paced up to her, staring at Ginny's reflection within the mirror.

'She's awake.'

His statement froze the atmosphere and the playful smile fell from Ginny's face. Awake or not, Ginny had no regard for the filthy Mudblood as long as she was far away from her.

Envy erupted inside of her as she arose from her seat.

Ginny stepped into the moonbeam and the provocative black night gown could be seen, clinging underneath a translucent white robe. Fury began to wear through on her face as she refused to believe how Hermione had managed to survive the dungeon.

'The little bitch deserved to rot in there.'

She poisoned her words as Draco gave no acknowledgment to her whatsoever.

In and ferocious rampage Ginny turned to her dressing table swiping her arms across the entire surface, smashing all of her delicacies onto the marble flooring.

Her mind became vacant as a result of her indignation as she began picking up the remnants of her disaster only to hurl them in multiple directions. All the objects shattered in disharmony as the powders and liquid broke free of their containers, exploding freely across the portraits and lighting.

Panting heavily she screamed into the mirror, as she stomped over to her bed grabbing her newly formed wand – another exuberate gift from Draco - off of the sheets.

Draco pulled his Hawthorn out of his pocket, silently flicking it towards the door. As Ginny advanced towards it she reached for the dragon handle wrapping her fingers around it, pulling on the rigid door.

Her anger increased as frustratingly she continued to yank the door with both hands, hauling with all of her weight. Draco meanwhile observed the almost comical reaction of Ginny at the edge of his peripherals.

'What the fuck have you done!'

Ginny's course language spread like fire throughout the room as she yelled through her gritted teeth. Stepping away with heavy breathing she wiped her mouth with the back of her wrist. With contempt she narrowed her eyes towards the heavy wooden barrier - raising her wand. 'Reducto!'

The spell beamed from her wand tip, only to stop an inch before the door and to disintegrate into thin air. Glaring over her shoulder, she locked eyes with the tall wizard.

Turning coyly, she slunk towards him without lowering her wand.

'Open the door Malfoy.'

Her voice was calmer than before as a slither of seduction lay beneath her words. She refused to remove her latch on the stony grey eyes as her weapon halted just before Draco's nose.

'I mean it.'

Automatically a chuckle Draco appeared to have been so desperately trying to supress broke free rebounding of the walls of the room. Raising one eyebrow, Draco paced over the bed sitting down on the edge emitting complete disregard for Ginny's threats.

As Ginny turned around, Draco leant forward – resting his elbows on his knees – as he continued to stare at her.

'She's no good to us dead.' Pausing, his face remained expressionless as Ginny hesitantly diffused and lowered her wand.

'Don't tell me you seem to think she's actually worthy of something! If I seem to remember, she's nothing but dirt.'

Draco smiled at Ginny's hatred, as she felt his stormy eyes bore into her.

'And if I seemed to remember, you were running around with her trying to save the day.'

His words cut into her like a dagger, as the anger once again boiled irrationally under her skin. His audacity infuriated her as she casted her wand towards the mirror, creating it to shatter into tiny pieces instantly.

Ginny's temper was not easily concealed as her skin flushed under the thick mask she had applied. With her arms by her side, her chest rose and fell rapidly as her emotions rendered her stationed to where she stood.

Attempting to calm herself slowly, the redhead opened her mouth to speak

'I want her dead.'

For the first time desperation could be heard in her voice, after all since their capture the fantasy of Hermione paying for her crimes possessed her thoughts. The anger was not towards Draco but to the girl who only ever protected herself.

She thought bitterly about past events as she knew that when it had come for a time that heroes were needed, all had run away leaving her to be absorbed in the evil that was left behind.

Harry was first to leave, not even to say goodbye to Ginny but to Hermione instead. Her poisoned ideas manipulated the hatred further. _How dare he leave. I always knew he would turn out to be a fucking coward in the end._ Her face grimaced as she sunk herself onto the pillowed stool adjacent to her.

Staring up at Draco her heart warmed. He knew of her power and he knew that her capabilities were far beyond the talents of the Mudblood. Ginny felt the horrors of all she endured, something her former school friend could not possibly comprehend.

Her face fell into her hands and she felt herself falling into the darkness of her own mind. The realm of nightmares - where she could not escape - closed down over her vision. The animosity still simmered as she thought of the pitiful covers so many people held for their gutless intentions.

_""_

_Ginny's clothing had been replaced and she had been given a clean white linen tunic. Of course – like the others – it was created with a highly placed hem line, held up with loose thin straps that were placed over her shoulders._

_Her pale freckled skin was completely defenceless as the harsh breeze that constantly swept through the castle brushed against her already cold body. _

_Yaxley circled the petite girl as he had finished the observation of her changing the clothing. All throughout the demonstration Ginny held her composure refusing to show any hint of fear or hesitation towards her captor's persistently hungry eyes._

_Her exposure sickened every cell within her body, everyday her humanity edged away as she grew more into an animal than anything else. There was only so much the pitiful excuse for a man could rob from her. Ginny felt that her body was a small price to pay in exchange for her survival. Not that it made the submission she was frequently condemned any easier._

_She thought scathingly as Yaxley continued to prowl around her. All the abuse she received was expected from a monster like him. Unfortunately the degree of the pain that he left her in was never expected or predictable. _

_Yet Harry's actions were the one to enraged her the most. He was supposed to love her, meant to care for her and protect her no matter what. The thought of him eluded in her mind as the hole she harboured in her chest grew ever wider. Truth be told, he was the one to steal her character and he was the sole reason Ginny was currently being punished. _

_Harry's appearances were few and far between and he was never around when she truly needed him. He was only ever useful for picking up the pieces and at the best of times the so called hero couldn't even do that. Instead he chose to use her as a pawn in his cowardly fight. _

_Deepening into her bleak visions the realisation that all Harry ever seemed to care about was making sure Hermione knew he was still alive. That was of course if she was even still breathing. Many rumours had passed her ears surrounding the suspicion of her former friend. _

_Most said she was killed before she even arrived at the camps. However Ginny knew it was far more likely she somehow managed to escape the fate that she deserved. After all Hermione only ever ensured she was the one to stay alive._

_They were both same. All unprepared to do what need to be done._

_Regardless of the healing spell that Harry casted upon her, the bruises of her prison still showed but caused her less agony than they otherwise would. After all, if Yaxley saw Ginny fresh from injury, suspicion would have surely been aroused. _

'_Today will be full of surprises my sweet Blood Traitor.' _

_His aged voiced laced and unearthy tone upon her - even his articulation felt like violation to the bone. His hands were placed behind him clutching tightly to his wand. Stopping before her, he smiled without ill repute bringing his stubbed fingers up to her shoulder, stroking the curve._

_Using his last finger, he flicked the strap of her dress freely from its support. It slid down her arm as Yaxley continued to caress her marked skin._

'_You __**will**__ do me proud… I have a lot of Galleons placed on you.'_

_Pushing his face closer to hers, he inhaled her scent as Yaxley released his touch from the girl. Grabbing at her wrists he placed them limply in one hand as he held his wand in the other. _

_Ginny pulled her hands from his coercion, daring to look him straight in the eye. Yaxley's smile grew as she once again attempting to uproot her weak arms away from him._

'_Save your attitude for show.' Snapping his words at the struggling girl, Yaxley's smirk grew even wider showing his yellow tinged teeth._

_Finally she tore herself free from his grasp - the Death Eater forcefully took hold on her once again. Digging his fingers into her already tender and swollen skin, Ginny winced reluctantly to the sharp pain. Yaxley lowered her hands towards his groin, pushing his body into hers._

_Detesting to his actions Ginny wriggled feebly, however his overpowerment immobilised her in an instant. _

_Although Yaxley was not a particularly big man nor was he that tall but his presence would always fill whatever desolate hole he would sentence her to. _

_As his position was high up among the ranks of Lord Voldemort he was placed in charge of several quarters, all of which lay in the Ravenclaw tower. Each sectors all holding somebody different._

_Revulsion clawed down her spine as her stomach turned in abhorrence. She tried to curl her fingers into her palms and away from the disgusting wizard before her, with no luck._

_Pushing her back forcefully with no notice, Ginny felt herself lose balance and the pull of gravity. Colliding loudly with the floor beneath her, the dress rose exposing what she always intended to remain private._

_Not from Yaxley though, nothing would ever be private again._

_Every part of her had been contaminated and defied by him. Nothing could be saved as all had already been shamefully debilitated against her will. Laughing at her pathetic onslaught, Yaxley bent down beside her circling his wand around the both her wrists instantly tying them together with a purple beam._

_Ginny welcomed the so called show she was to participate in. The Dark Lord could hold nothing crueller than that what she had already undertook._

_""_

Snapping back into the present surrounding, she blinked to the decorated ceiling high above her. Gazing around she noticed she was lying on the hard inhospitable flooring. Draco walked over to her from the bed as she tried to remember how she seemed to be on the floor.

Confusion swelled within her as the blonde hair of Draco shattered the logic in brain. In a feral fear she threw her legs towards him, kicking violently at the young man.

Draco stepped back, well-practiced in avoiding flaying legs.

'For fuck sake Ginny! This **will** stop!'

Barking his command Ginny responded with her body convoluting – bending her spine in two. Her head leapt forward and she snarled her face in the possession of her delirium.

Screaming like a wild animal, Ginny took her nails to the floor, scratching at the indestructible masonry. Pointing his wand at her with not a second thought, the ropes fell from the tip wrapping around her wrists and ankles binding the retention of her sudden lunacy.

Her surroundings merged together as she wrestled with her bindings. Draco's presence loomed over her as he crouched to her side wrapping his arms around the fearful girl. She felt his grip and sunk into his heat as slowly the terrors began to be erased into his tight embrace.


	7. Goodnight Hermione

Chapter Seven

_Goodnight Hermione_

* * *

Draco cradled the distressed girl in his arms as she struggled violently against his grasp. He knew after all Ginny had suffered that physical force would not usually be the best course of action to take. However the rapid movements she continued to perform would only leave damage on her.

He could feel his clothing beginning to stick to his arms as the sweat formed. Bringing her closer into his chest, the struggle had become more awkward and Ginny had somehow managed to pin his leg under her as she persisted the fight.

Attempting to soothe her, he stoked her hair, sharing his warmth with the younger girl as he prayed silently for her mental stability to return.

The room looked as though it had a rampage by Giants. The mess from her cosmetics had caked the room in various shades of reds and purples while the mix of multiple colognes made it smell like a flowered pavilion.

Draco's patience had never exactly been unyielding and it grew thinner by the minute. He needed to speak desperately with Hermione and the cryptic letter he received would not solve itself. Almost in answer of his wishes he felt Ginny's body become rigid and cease the aggressive twisting and turning.

Catching his breath the struggle left him tired as his body limped around the dainty body and his muscles began to ache.

Contending with his weary self, Draco realised how long it had been since he had any sleep. His eyes were constantly fighting under the weight of his eyelids. Whatever minutes of sleep he could snatch were always plagued by his forgotten inadvertence's.

Every night he would stand where he once stood, the bristle wind cutting through him. His hands would tremble and the wand followed suit pathetically. The ancient wizard would reason with Draco forming the rapid build-up of tears, sinking his vision.

Throwing the redhead off of him, Draco stood up brushing himself down hastily. A frown played on his mouth as he looked at the statuette that Ginny had formed on the floor.

Removing his styled jacket he rolled up his sleeves, exposing the black art and he loosened the top button on his shirt. Sweeping his finger through his white blonde hair he bent down to Ginny's side pulling her up by the reins around her wrists.

He knew she was conscious and had no time for her games. Hauling her up her the force caused Draco some difficulty but in one quick motion he threw her from the floor to the bed.

Exerting what strength he had left in him, Draco stood above the girl, peering at her motionless form.

'Look at you - you can't even keep your foul temper under control. How do you expect me to let have **any** part in this?'

Ginny's silence was resolute but his willingness to endure the night any further weakened his stance as he grabbed for one of the bedposts in support. The sting of his words pierced the air as Ginny made no further acknowledgment.

'I thought you wanted to join me in this. I see that intentions are now somewhat different.'

Drawling his words a thirst developed in his stomach as he glared at Ginny's lace covered thighs. Turning away from the temptation he walked heavily due to all his effort being drained. Heading towards the door his feet were became more uncoordinated than usual as a spinning sensation capered at the side of his head. Picking up his jacket he searched for his wand, while doing so he glanced around the room noticing his Hawthorn lay not too far from him.

Tossing the tailored material over his arm he walked towards his wand, gathering it in his hand he turn to Ginny before leaving.

'I've got things to do.'

Draco waited patiently for a response allowing a few moments to pass. Finally he saw movement in Ginny as she poised herself up on bed with her arms. She made no attempt to remove the hair that had fallen over her face yet Draco could already see the hate burning in her opaque eyes. As her speech released, venom hissed from her lips.

'Go. Have fun with your little whore.'

For a moment he thought his heart had stopped as the audaciousness carved into his chest. Draco felt as though he ought to strike her, remind the Blood Traitor what her place was. However he restrained himself biting his tongue in protest.

A smirk was toying on her lips, as she pushed herself back against her headboard enticing him to join her. Draco fought the urge as he knew she was just trying to tease her way out of retribution. Regardless, the fire of anger was too great to suppress as he lashed his words towards the witch on the bed.

'Get this shit cleaned up. You look like a fucking mess.'

Before Draco said anything he would regret he walked out through the door, destined for his study.

It didn't take long to arrive as he stormed in, throwing his jacket on the chair that lay in the middle of the room.

Grabbing the letter that remained on the table he scrunched the parchment in his hand. He stopped to contemplate about whether he should venture into his drinking cabinet. Thinking it would probably be best to not to, he apparated straight to Hermione's room.

The compression stopped as soon as it started as the pressure forced all the air from his lungs. The sickness heightened as he paced himself widening his view of the room.

All the shattering images before him slid back into place so everything finally became clear. For some reason the room did not seem the same as what he had left it.

The bed had been moved so the underneath was placed up against the wall. The drapes and posters create the effect of a wooden cage - Draco couldn't possibly imagine how Hermione would have the strength to perform such actions.

The chairs and rugs had been moved all into peculiar positions around the room, illustrating a surreal effect throughout. Needless to say he could only expect such compulsions from somebody who had completely lost their mind.

Gazing over to the book case he noticed that they had all been grouped together by category and in alphabetical order.

Striking in his mind was the thought of Hermione's whereabouts as it dawned upon him she was not in sight. Draco feared to trust his intuition about her psychological state. He knew instantly she had caused the rearrangement of the room as Ginny to exhibited unusual behaviour to say the least.

With no sign of the former Gryffindor, he strained his ears, tuning into a slight quiver of breath that softly trickled in the air. Where it came from he could not be certain.

Following his senses he approach the other side of the room where the displaced bed stood, he peered behind what would have been the underneath of it.

On the floor, wedged between the bed and wall, lay Hermione staring contently at the ceiling. An eerie serene expression ghosted on her face as her eyes moved slowly towards Draco.

Her amber eyes caused his chest the leap in realisation. Gazing into them he saw the cracks in her soul and he feared that without her sound of mind it all would fail.

Draco could not afford for her mind to break. It was imperative that Hermione's capabilities would remain intact, especially after the weeks he had spent wasting time on a message he had no idea on how to answer. With a strong suspicion, Draco felt like she would be the only one able to translate the mysterious riddles.

Her fawn lips parted and closed in odd sequence as she wrinkled her eyes in rhythm to her unusual expression. He could hear the breath of her voice pushing through her throat as he stared down onto her - her curls formed angelic pillow around her head as she mumbled her hoarse exhalations. At least she was clean and dressed with some dignity now.

The rasping became more aggressive as Draco did not move wondering if she was attempting to speak. In prompt, his voice broke the silence.

'I need to speak with you.'

Her eyes shot open and the familiar fear Draco had seen so many times in her eyes before held her nectar gaze. Waiting for his response she raised from her coffin like space, crawling out the other side of the bed away from Draco.

Scuttling away like a frightened toad Draco followed her around the bed to see she was sitting crossed legged, facing the bookcase. Pulling out the books with clearly no logical train of thought, her arms acted mechanically taking them off the shelf allowing the literature to crash around her.

The fortress of books began to pile around her as she made no acknowledge to the boy behind her. Draco stalked into the corner where he found a Windsor styled chair stacked under several paintings. Removing the objects, he turned the chair back onto its legs.

Sitting down on it he stretched his legs out sinking into the comfort. The apparition had consumed his strength as his whole body was filled with a hollow ache.

He allowed Hermione to perform whatever she felt was necessary. Her hands clung onto the edge of the ledges, heaving herself up the bookcase. She continued to throw them of the shelves with one hand as the other clung on – along with her feet – to the wooden frame.

Once Hermione had finished she leapt to floor landing on her hands and feet resembling a creature of the night.

All the while Draco thought how dehumanized she had become. Ginny who he knew had suffered directly of the Dark Lord still had life left in her, although sometimes it was a bit too much life. While Hermione lay in camps with most followers thinking she was dead and yet somehow her experience had transformed her into savage animal. Although, he highly doubted that this particular phase would last very long. At last that was what Draco hoped.

Hermione rested onto her knees as she frantically piled the books by random, looking madly and each of their spines. Each one seemed to puzzle her and she kept throwing them aside. Every one she picked up would increase the shake on her body as the scanned the books for what seemed a specific one.

The Death Eater continued to observe the confused girl as he stretched his arms before him still clutching to the scribed parchment. As he did so he gazed towards the Mark noticing the faint glow in the ink.

No doubt the Dark Lord was certainly pleased about something.

After the panicked search of the hard covered texts, Hermione slunk to the corner, bringing her knees to her chest.

Draco lent back into the chair, resting his temple on a propped hand waiting for any kind of normality to return. His boredom casted over Hermione as her eyes settled turning her focus to the former Slytherin.

Straightening in response Draco leaned forward eagerly, anticipating her reaction. Slowly she parted her lips once again.

'What… do you want?'

Widening his eyes to her voice, she clearly struggled to emit her words - yet she did not drop her gaze. Draco had come to see her with a purpose and would not allow the oddities of the night distract him.

'I assume you've become comfortable here?'

Averting his glare, Hermione looked at the room around her as the pale pointed face began to twitch in frustration.

'Do you understand why you're here?'

Hermione's face leapt into shock as she slowly shook her head. Draco thought that somehow she would be a lot harder to convince than Ginny.

'I advise you listen carefully… As you know I'm not very fond of repeating myself.' He paused, straightening out the parchment so the writing became smooth once again.

'The last time I attempted to make contact, you were perhaps a little bit more… hostile. Now what I have to tell you will become completely irrelevant as I doubt you will believe a word of it.'

Standing up, Draco walked casually to the other side of the room. Throwing the letter down in front of Hermione he slipped his hands into his pockets.

'I think you will find this very informative.'

Her eyes became wide in disbelief as she altered her view to the tall wizard. His face hung in honestly although it was not easy to persuade her so. The tension loosened in her arms as she kept switching between the piece of parchment and Draco himself. Gingerly her arms unwrapped from her knees as she reached forward for the letter.

Sighing with relief the draining tiredness once again swept over him as he felt his legs grow ever weaker.

Hermione's eyes locked onto the writing as her brows furrowed in thought. Draco meanwhile merely watched her reading in an attempt to judge her reaction.

'I'll leave you with that and I'll send the elf to tidy the room up.'

Satisfied with the encounter Draco turned to leave and he heard the longing call of his bed. Turning his head for the final time that night Draco saw the girl peering intently at him. What she believes and what she thought of him were two completely non applicable things. All that matter was her ability of decrypting the letter.

However he knew that Hermione's trust was something that had to be earned.

'Goodnight Hermione.'

With his last words lingering with tension in the air, Draco parted the room and made his way up into the manor.


	8. Always Start From The Beginning

Chapter Eight

Always Start From The Beginning

* * *

_""_

_Hermione heard the thump of Harry's body hitting the ground as she tore her tear ridden eyes away from Ron's comfort. She could feel his grip tightening on her as all their forces slowly moved backwards. _

_Bellatrix meanwhile danced around Harry, cursing spouts of fire from her wand. The Dark Lord laughing menacingly, stretching out his arms, he moved towards the defeated army._

_'You see! This is what happens when you send children to fight the war!'_

_All around him the sea of Death Eaters roared in succession and Lord Voldemort joined Bellatrix in her celebratory fashion._

_Hermione's heart had been ripped from her and the cavity it left began to rot away. She refused to believe that Harry had failed. Tilting her head up to Ron, the pure anger had mounted his face. Pushing her body away from him, Ron dropped his arm as Hermione turned to the scene before her._

_Hogwarts, which had homed her for seven years had been utterly destroyed as it bathed in its occupant's blood. Glorious stone archways had crumpled and all around them were the dead bodies of friends and mentor's - their glazed eyes stared hopelessly and without meaning into the starless sky. _

_Mostly all around her people were crying and some she could barely even recognise. Everybody was covered in the macabre red as the tears stained their faces. She reacquainted her gaze with Ron who had now averted his eyes towards Ginny. _

_Staring between them Hermione's noticed that both their faces were equally hardened as they turned their vision to look at the murders of their best friend._

_Ron's fingers interlaced into Hermione's palm as he squeezed tightly, causing her to almost fall into an emotional mess. She did not want to die without Ron, not that she wanted to die at all. _

_At last they had finally acknowledgment their feelings for one another. She wanted to spend her life with him - instead as she looked on, she felt all that happiness about to be hacked away. _

_Hermione's felt the soft tickled of Ron's hair as he leant his face in closer to hers. As she accepted her death she could felt every molecule of their bond and all that which had blossomed between them. As his warm breath traced over her ear Hermione closed her eyes in response._

_'We've only got one chance to get out of here. Don't let go of my hand.' _

_It felt as though a horrid weight had collapsed in on her brain as it all seemed to cave in. Rendering her mind blank Hermione had no idea what to do. However as she crumbled she placed her life, her trust, everything about her into Ron's hands._

_'I love you Hermione.'_

_With his last words Ron began to drag her across the courtyard at full speed as Ginny and George began to flank at the side. Feeling the rocks beneath her it appeared not one single witch or wizard of their opposition – including that of Lord Voldemort – noticed their movement. _

_With both wands raised high Ginny ran ahead of her brother as she was the first to cast. 'Sectumsempra!'_

_The ball of light travelled at neck breaking speed and in an instant it burnt into the side of Bellatrix's face as her body fell onto the Dark Lord._

_Hermione's legs fell underneath her, the shock emphasised by the piercing shriek. Her ankle buckled as her foot skimmed the smallest of stones. Almost tripping, Ron held her steady as she regained her footing. Looking towards her she saw the sight of Bellatrix writhing in agony as she trapped the Lord underneath her, far from his wand._

_Others had begun to crowd around as none seemed to seek the caster of such a horrific curse. Moreover, the brutalised body of Harry lay on the ground near mutilated, not far from them. As they drew closer Hermione began to hear the running of feet behind them. _

_Speeding towards the ground she felt Ron's hand on the back of her neck and her head landed onto the ground. As she opened her eyes and her vision cleared, the hand of Harry Potter lied directly in front of her. _

_Everything began to spin and she the felt many bodies pressing against her. The fresh breeze flew past her and she promptly landed with another thud. _

_Wherever they were, they were safe._

_""_

Hermione awoke covered in a large array of books. A dull rawness niggled at her fingers as she pushed the texts off from her. Turning onto her back, more fell underneath her as her body twitched from the corners that dug deep into her spine. Throwing her torso up, the tingle of sleep trod on the surface of her skin.

She pushed her hands into her hair and rubbed her palms onto her scalp. Closing her eyes she willed away the nausea as she tried to recall her last memories.

Everything seemed so catastrophic. Hermione was never sure of anything as for the most part she would lose a few hours of her memory. She held vague recollections of her various moods. At times she could feel the swell of enlightenment and others she was trapped horrifically in fear.

Straining her thoughts she could not remove Draco from her mind as words seemed to write themselves before her. _The letter…_

Sweeping the books away from her, she found a crumpled piece of parchment screwed tightly into a ball.

Unpeeling it slowly, her fingers felt splintered but slowly the words began to reveal themselves. Placing it on top of one of the hardbacks she ironed her hand over it, flattening out the texture.

_Crouching below the firework,_

_The hours are chased into the snow._

_The lion begins to smirk,_

_As the swan triumphs her new beaux._

_Once seen death, the path will guide;_

_Towards the masses that took their form._

_Requirement made a side,_

_Taking little notice of the storm._

_The tower holds what's needed,_

_And the turner won't follow the rules._

_Dragons have not succeeded, _

_But you are not in the hands of fools._

The riddle left her speechless and none of it made any sense in her brain. How the letter came about she was not sure, yet a strong suspicion of Draco reminisced in her senses.

The perplexing code steamed her brain as Hermione could not possible comprehend its meaning. Reading it over several times, she attempting to absorb the information yet it only emptied her further.

Placing the letter on the floor she pushed herself up and began piling the books back into their places.

Her order was particular and she knew instinctively where each once should go. Hermione felt as though she had done this many a time, knowing her psychological state it was more than likely she had.

Picking them up in individual concession by the time the third one reached the shelf the memory illuminated the inside of her skull.

Draco had something important to tell her, something that was so important she would not believe it until the letter had been decrypted.

Bending down for it she grabbed one of the pillows from the floor using it to cushion herself as she sat back down. Time and time again she read the words until it bore into her, until they were all she could think about. _Dragons have not succeeded, but you are not in the hands of fools. _

It felt as though the particular phrase held some semblance to it, the familiarity brought a strange sensation over her. As she repeated it to herself she scanned the rest of the letter once again, feeling it was as though all the doors in her mind sprung free. All had been barricaded by terror and misery and now the knowledge she held in front of her used its key to open every last one.

However as it all overwhelmed her, Hermione could feel the full force of everything. As it gushed from the deeper spaces of her, everything seemed as though flashed before her. The battle, the camps, Harry, his leaving, Malfoy… No matter how many pictures delved out before her she could not understand any of it.

Circumstances had brought her here, or at least so she thought. How was any of this possible?

Ignoring the letter Hermione thought longingly about the bright sunny sky and the luscious green fields. What she would do to be free…

The only thing Hermione Granger ever prided herself upon was her intellect. Now the stakes were truly raised by her foe and her opportunity to arise had been buried underneath the craziness she had succumbed to.

_I have to find him._

The idea of Harry leaving her was preposterous and there was no feasible way he would do so unless there was something else. He had never been a coward, so why would his actions portray otherwise when victory was in their grasp?

On the surface everything seemed so different, yet if there was one thing Hermione had always succeeded at - it was perceiving information other would often overlook.

_Everything's so different now, who am I even attempting to fool? Myself? This is just ridiculous._

Yet why would she have been given a letter at all?

Recalling Malfoy's words he thought the letter would provide useful information. Why would he give her incoherent riddles if it wasn't possible for her to decipher them? Unless of course, it was a trap.

Snorting to herself, Hermione disbelieved highly that it was a trap. After all what could he possibly gain that wasn't already at his access? There was nothing more they could take from her and she certainly had nothing left worth losing.

Her internal ramblings were halted by a large bang outside of the room. It did not repeat itself but it made Hermione jump nonetheless. Her curiosity was heightened regardless of the sound and she summoned the bravery to discreetly go to the door.

Slowly wrapping her hand around the golden doorknob she turned it cautiously expect the lock to work at full force.

As the click proceeded, she realised that there was no prevention from leaving the room. Why she had not thought of this previously, was beyond her.

Pulling the door ajar she saw Verrill scuttling away from the door. Watching him momentarily she was certain he was listening out for her as his irrational reaction proved so. She thought about calling to him but was unsure whether the disturbance would be worth it.

No light spilled from her room as she waited for the elf to return from the shadows. After a while she could see the long hooked nose poke from the corner of the room outside.

He was rubbing his hands frantically until even Hermione could see the redness from a distance. Instinctively she pushed her arm through the gap, holding her arm out for the fearful elf.

Reluctantly he cautiously walked towards her as she allowed him to see her warming face. As Verrill drew closer, Hermione widened the door inviting the elf inside as his singular ear followed.

As the elf entered the room his eyes widened terribly as he saw the state of Hermione's new habitat.

'Oh no miss! What's happened! Verrill has much work to do!'

His anxiety stricken eyes warped his face into a fear stricken creature. The elf hands continued to rub against each other, sanding away the deteriorating skin.

Hermione looked down onto him taking notice of the rag he wore. She would have assumed that any elf of Malfoy would have resembled to the condition of what she first met Dobby in. Yet this elf was clean with a modestly thin tunic tied at each bony shoulder.

Verrill's worry comforted the room as the kind hearted nature of the fear was only because of Hermione's welfare.

Hurrying off into the first corner Verrill began frantically tidying the room. Painting, scrolls, boxes, trinkets… All the things Hermione had rearranged in anguish were being returned to their designated abodes.

'Master will not be pleased with miss if she keeps interfering. Miss has to behave or she will be in trouble!'

Hermione ignored the elf's squeaks as she went to retrieve the letter from the floor. Relaxing back onto her cushioning she immersed herself back into its scribed mystery.

Reading the delicate words she noticed no obvious clue to its author. All letters were blocked capitals and evenly spaced. Sensing the electrics in her brain beginning to spark after so long she gripped her forehead as the pain pulsed through it.

Her vision was overtaken by bright flashing lights as her eyes seemed to shake without influence. The slightest movement antagonised the ache further - however Hermione opened her eyes again, concentrating on the words before her.

It had been a lifetime ago since intelligence held any value with Hermione and it seemed that none of knowledge remained. Being able to recite Hogwarts a History was completely unequivocal in these times.

All the literature Malfoy had littered her room with - the fact that he had given her a letter which holds no reliability of anything - was all entirely meaningless.

Still clutching at her temples she saw the elf cast his erratic gaze over his shoulder.

'Miss is doing very well!' Verrill's voice ricocheted through her as the pain intensified by tenfold. Soothing the side of her brain with her fingertips the elf resumed his high pitch frequency. 'Much better than Mistress Weasley!'

Hermione's body snapped in reaction to the name. Since she had been brought to this room she had no given one inclination towards Ginny's whereabouts. Shame rose within in her as she had not even made an attempt to see if her friend was still alive.

Hermione casted her gaze intently on the door before her only to tumble into the dark clutches that clawed at the corners of her mind. _What has even happened to us? _

Although she was convinced her memory was still not intact, blotches of speech and scenery bubbled in her head. Thoughts of Malfoy seemed to become confused as though he appeared as two different people entirely - one who was violently sadistic lying under a plain black mask. The other ideology was perhaps not quite white, yet one that offered her empowerment and safety.

Her fingertips crept into her hair line as her reformed nails dug into the soft scalp. Hermione did not know what to think, her own brain was tearing her into two completely different directions. Additionally, the question of Ginny still remained.

At least during her entrapment at the campsite, the young witch knew her place and for the most part avoided the danger. Instead here became much worse – something Hermione did not think was possible. She did not know where the danger lurked and here the very air was enough to infect the skin with its manipulation.

Hermione did not know how much longer she could stand the façade of that which had encased her with its materialistic bribery. The possessions seemed to fall into their own separate dimension as Hermione felt alone in the black void her mind had absorbed her in.

Regardless of her hollow surroundings, she became suffocated with an impenetrable sphere. Closing in around her, the heat descended upon her as she knew at once she had to leave.

Trying desperately to restore her forgotten memories, the lapses fractured at the surviving parts of its fragile remains. All she knew was Harry had left, she knew of camps yet only glimpses were available and somehow she was in Malfoy Manor, decrypting a letter for Draco himself.

Struggling to attain even breathing, the girl pursued the last dwindles of intellect she still might possess.

Thinking deeply her own voice echoed inside of her - a_lways start from the beginning._

Allaying her panic, she obeyed her intuition and tracked to her first problem. Harry had fled and for reason she could not remember. Yet she could not envisage that him of all people would leave for no good cause.

_There must be a plan._

What the plan could be however was an entirely different question. Falling back into the empty space she knew no matter how much she could assume, the idea Harry had made specific arrangements creating nothing apart from guess work. Surely, he would have left some kind of indication yet how would it of been possible to make any contact?

_Maybe, _she thought, _maybe there has been something he left for me. I just have to remember…_

Rummaging further into the allotments of her cognizance, the debauchery of broken memories flickered as she tried to seek the answer within them.

Discarding the letter, she threw it to the side and out of eye line, now was not the time for Death Eater's bidding.

Concentrating as much as the thumping of her head would allow, the distraction of Verrill arranging the room interfered with her meditation. Trying her best to evade the uncoordinated clashes of metal and wood, it caused upset to the rhythm of her thoughts.

The connections were beginning to evolve as she could only make a vague understanding of the things she already knew. If that was case there could only be two common denominators, the first of which would of course be Ginny. The second lay not too far from her written on a piece of parchment.

Was it even **remotely** possible that somehow Draco would be in contact with Harry? That somehow **this **was the plan?

_Now that is ridiculous. Even if that were so, I would have to understand the letter before I do anything…_

Of course the probability of this being true was highly unlikely, yet Hermione couldn't help but think, what if it was true?

As the theory blossomed, she confronted the letter hypnotised by its details. Obsession started to form as she saw the key to finding Harry. If she was to escape she first needed to know where to go.


	9. The Pound of Battle Loomed Ever Closer

Chapter Nine

The Pound of Battle Loomed Ever Closer

* * *

A few days had passed since Draco's last visit with Hermione and Ginny. He had evaded both girls since, mainly in order to regard some sense of normality.

He looked forward to today's events although he refused to leave the luxury of his own bed. The light from the windows had brought the sunshine into the room for the past few hours, whatever the time was he knew he had to prepare.

The conference would take a great deal of mental provision and the first thing he knew that he had to do, was make sure his lies were well calculated. After all, if the Dark Lord was roused for any reason, he would suffer more greatly than the Gryffindor's put together.

Draco thought of how the evening's events would disentangle. There had been so many times he had spun intricate lies to multiple parties that this time, it would only be easier than the last. The nerves were non-existent as he decided to rise from his bed and finally get himself ready.

Grabbing for his trousers, he pushed his legs through, buttoning them securely. He assured himself that there would time for cleanliness later, however now was the time for a drink, regardless of the hour.

Holding his trusted Hawthorn in his fingers, he swished the tip in the air instantly materialising a bourbon glass fresh with its brown firewhisky. Grabbing it in earnest he swirled the whisky in its glass before he took his sip.

Bending his head back in anticipation, he halted the glass before it reached his lips. It was probably not the best of ideas. Then again he would not be meeting with Lord Voldemort and Bellatrix until the sun had fallen. After the night sleep he had, it actually probably was a good idea.

Downing it within a few gulps he vanished the glass as easily as he made it appear. He grabbed for the draw that resided in his end table, pulling out his father's silver pocket watch. It was nearly midday as he held the carved antique in his hands.

Lucius had never been known for kindness and affection, even towards his family. Yet Draco had always respected both of his parents, until his father became a coward.

Vowing to himself, he swore that he would not become the gutless Death Eater his father was.

The absence of his parents left a peculiar hollowness to the manor. Once it was a majestic vicinity, constantly convening numerous dinner parties and host many guests including that of Lord Voldemort. Now however Malfoy Manor had turned into a cold desolate place, holding Blood Traitors and Mudbloods.

He felt sickened that the once mighty establishment now housed such filthy creatures. His skin crawled at the thought of their contamination desecrating his luxuries. Yet he knew it was all necessary to secure not only his wishes but to make sure nobody got in the way of them either.

The shiver of tension flowed around his head as once again fell into his cupped hands. Draco could not afford confusion now or any qualms of intentions and morals. He knew what he was doing was the right thing.

He felt like judgement day was drawing ever nearer and prayed for advice and guidance. It was time's like these the pang of sorrow tormented his heart as Draco longed for his mother. In fact he was fairly sure that he would have even happily taken the company of his father. It was highly unlikely unless somehow, they had miraculously risen from the dead.

Now was not the time to wish carelessly of things where he had no control. Draco felt the pound of battle loomed ever closer, as he wondered if there would be anything left of the world to reclaim.

The first battle was costly enough - almost half of the wizarding world was destroyed because of it. Now he could not help but think that the reunion of the Dark Lord and Potter would merely wipe out whatever was left.

He almost pitied the opposition, after all that they had lost, would Potter even come out of hiding to defend it? Was there any strength left within him? After all, the Weasley boy was dead and his two most loved ones were under Draco's roof.

Smugness swelled, replacing the heartache - he felt the power of his positioning and he knew all would be secured if he could just govern his thoughts. He was guaranteed to gain what was his - as long as he played the game.

Draco did not once lack the courage of his convictions and felt like he was built to play the games that were offered to him. His father would always remind him that he could only ever play the hand he was dealt, yet surely the whole point was to steal, cheat and lie to gain the perfect hand.

Anybody was stupid to think that whatever laid on the surface were the true motives of those who spun the lies.

Everybody was capable of such things, especially on the turf he had embedded himself in. Even precious Potter had stepped up to the mark and realised that being a hero was not going to win this war.

The sunlight faded subtly, as it appear much like his thoughts, the storm clouds had begun to gather overhead. The ominous sign castrated all the light from the room as he planned his second spectacle of Ginny Weasley for the Dark Lord.

It was strange to think of Voldemort's desire for the young redhead. Something Draco had never understood.

Perhaps it was her stubborn attitude and the inability to break her soul which had appeared so easily done to others. She was most certainly powerful but a strong suspicion lay in his mind that it was her resemblance to Potter's Mudblood mother than intrigued the Dark Lord so highly.

Draco thought back to the first time he encountered Ginny at the castle. She had been cleaned but a vast smear of bruising resonated of her pale skin. Yaxley dragged her through the hall ready for her challenge.

He smirked at the thought of pitting servants in a life of death battle for the entertainment of the Death Eaters. He knew they were all satisfied in sending their slaves into a one way fight, as after all he knew for certain Yaxley had made nearly a million Galleons on his bet for Ginny.

However ultimately, he could only think of the plan that was given to him by Voldemort. Any acknowledgment of any external devising would cost him his life. Yet the young Death Eater could not help but think if he was underestimating the leader of evil and perhaps, he himself had his own separate plans for Draco.

Anger felt like it was rippling as Draco was not accustomed to the feeling of doubt. Those days had passed and he was no longer the pitiful excuse for a boy, something he father always assured him that he was.

Hours later, Draco had eaten with thanks to the elf and had dressed himself in cladded black attire. Presently, the comb ran through his fine blonde hair, paying the utmost attention to the varying details of his appearance.

After he had finished adjusting his hair, he fastened his cufflinks and the laces of his boots. Everything upon him was perfect, as everything he wore and all around him was coexistent with his parallel limitations.

Draco put his hand upon the wardrobe in the corner of the room. Opening it slowly he revealed the full length mirror that was placed on the other side of the door.

Staring at himself, his hands began to brush down the front of his jacket to crease out the invisible lines he saw. Slight apprehension dwindled at the top of his stomach as he felt the need for further relaxation before the anticipated meeting.

The idea of Ginny simmered in his thoughts, as her inviting whisper echoed through him like a siren's call. The temptation of her image enticed his deprived appetite as he casually slipped his wand into his pocket.

Closing his eyes softly, he thought of Ginny's room and allowed the magic to carry him through the compression.

The Death Eater's elfin face loosened as once again Draco could breathe and open his eyes. He was thankful that the dizziness that had recently occurred every time he apparated, had finally left.

The girl stood before him gazing intently out of the window that Draco had kindly placed shortly after her arrival. If Ginny was not pining over her own reflection, the redhead would constantly stare into the outside world.

She had dressed herself in her silver kimono styled robe and her copper hair appeared darker than usually, as it dangled in wet curls down her back. The gleam from the drips tickled down the metallic material as it left a visible damp patch underneath her locks.

Ginny's bedroom had been restored and there was no evidence of any chaos from the other day. Draco stood there, placing his hands into his pockets as the young witch gave no welcome towards him.

He approached Ginny standing firmly beside her, joining her admiration of the scenery that lay on the other side of the glass.

'I want to speak with the Mudblood.'

Draco raised his eyebrows to the subtle voice. 'You do not give me orders.' He replied strongly.

For the first time Ginny turned to look at him as a snarl was plastered onto her face. Her arms rose from her side to fold over her chest. Draco couldn't help but trace his glare down to the curves that her arms had created.

The corners of Ginny's rosy lips turned into a smirk as she knew exactly what the Death Eater was looking at. She drew her body closer to his and tilted her head back in order to watch the expression on the pointed face.

Her voice was low and illusive as Draco saw each word passing breathlessly past her perfectly formed lips.

'Do you think that it would be such a terrible idea to reassure your darling little pet of my wellbeing?'

Her bright brown eyes beamed and held a challenge towards her taller counterpart. As Draco saw the look which she held, he could feel the excitement beginning to build. Yet he didn't want to conquer her that easily. He wanted patience in his chase and he was determined to make sure that she knew he was the one in charge.

Drawing his granite irises away from the spherical lures, Ginny pouted her mouth in response as she dropped her arms, walking away from him. Draco watched the glissade of her hips as they weaved under the silken tussore.

She reached the wall across the room - pivoting on her bare feet, she slammed her back onto the wall behind her. Draco looked on in curiosity as he paused entirely, watching on at the performing girl.

Ginny began twisting her body slowly as a smile of utter subordination teased underneath her grin. The tips of her fingers traced down to her thighs, grabbing at her robe and slowly gathering the material, hitching it higher up her porcelain legs.

The young wizard dropped his hands from his trouser pockets, marching towards Ginny. Her smirk grew wider as he reached the softly gyrating girl. She continued to bring the hem further up towards her hips, as the edge reached the top of her thighs.

Draco instantly seized both her wrists, wrapping his long, slender fingers around her submissive joints. Ginny gave no protest as Draco pinned her arms above her head, causing the silk to ripple back down to the floor.

Pushing his weight into her, he gave no room between himself and the wall. Squirming against him, Ginny bucked her hips into his as she dragged her thigh against the outside of his leg. The thirst unravelled deep within him as his impatience grew.

The Death Eater was aware he had time before he would meet with Lord Voldemort and his aunt. He knew he had at least an hour to make the former Gryffindor beg for his command. As he looked down lustfully at the smouldering freckled face beneath him, a shiver trembled down the inside of his spine.

He pressed his appendage into Ginny, separating her legs with his foot. Her body recoiled in pleasure as he forced himself further into the space between her thighs.

Her breathing began to change as Draco inhaled praying for restraint. He wanted to make her whimper and spiral into an obedient pleasure, determined by his will. Yearning for the need to control her in every way, he lowered his face close to her half exposed ear.

The small droplets of water fell onto his nose, absorbing instantaneously. Keeping his breathing tamed, he licked his thin lips in impetuosity.

'You're going to do **exactly **what I tell you.'

Draco could feel her eyelashes flutter softly against his cheek as her chest beneath him began to pace more heavily. The slight material slid against him, as Ginny's panting elevated. Draco could feel her breasts squeezed underneath him as he continued to press his mass into her.

Detecting her tension, he place both of Ginny's wrist into one of his large hands as the other threaded into her waved, moistened strands of hair. The Malfoy heir pulled his face away from the witch's - gripping at a fistful of the russet mane - yanking her head backwards.

The rush of dominance pulsed through him, as he saw the slight resistance reflected in Ginny's expression. He leaned in closer to her, as he prepared for his demand.

'Open your mouth.'

His voice sung smoothly in the air as Ginny obeyed without hesitation, parting her lips ever so slightly.

The sight of her complying with him in such ways caused a surge of exhilaration to tingle through his body. Without further thought, he forced his mouth onto hers, pushing his tongue deep into her inviting aperture.

Ginny fell to the action as he could feel her growing more limp and desperate, struggle to break free of his grasp. Their bodies had already begun to form a rhythm as they writhed against each other.

Her lips worked in perfect synchronization to his, and he began to wonder why he had never thought of this before. His tongue dived in and out of her steaming mouth as he continued the tight hold of her hair.

Her passion enticed him further as he removed the grip of her wrists and the clutches of hair, as Draco's hand made its way towards her throat. Initially he merely caressed the circumference of her neck, until Ginny bit her teeth down gradually onto his bottom lip.

His fingers dug deeper in response as her audacity encouraged his force. Securing his grasp around her, the fragility of her collar provoked his drive with the thought of the power her had. At any moment, if he wished, he could choke the girl to death.

Draco felt satisfied as he heard her fractured breathing rasping through the restriction. Removing his pale thin lips from hers, he looked down onto her as he captured the look of bliss already twisting on Ginny's face. Draco also noticed how her lips had swollen due to the lustful contact.

Still keeping his possession of her throat, he stepped away bringing the girl with him. He turned her so her back was towards the bed, as he reversed Ginny towards it. When her calves reach the quilting his tight grasp flinched, causing her to stop.

Draco took his hand from her supple column, admiring the witch in her state of obvious frustration.

'Take it off.'

His stormy grey eyes hinted towards her gown as Ginny gave no hesitation in removing her clothing. As she untied the sash, it fell freely from her shoulders as she exposed the entirety of her body.

Tracing his vision down her perfect form, he couldn't help but notice her ivory skin enhance by the shadows caused by her delicate breasts and hips. In the evening sunlight, Draco couldn't help but lowering his eyes toward her sex, admiring the glaze of her juices resting on her petite folds.

The sight caused an instant shock to the base of his spine, as he could feel the rigidness form within his trousers.

'Bend over.'

Again without any reluctance, Ginny turned to face the bed as she placed both knees onto the surface. She bent herself at her pelvis as she pushed her head into the embroidery beneath her. Pointing her hips upwards, Draco gained the perfect view of her femininity, wasting no time he kicked off his boots and unbuttoned his trousers.

Stepping out of them, his arousal was plainly evident beneath his remaining garments. Lifting his wand from the inside of his jacket, he traced it down his front undoing all of the fastenings instantly.

Throwing his Hawthorn to the side he threw his jacket off, followed by his shirt as he exposed the tattooed evil decorated on his arm. Advancing towards Ginny, he saw her hands rise from the bed, to reach around and exhibit her inner flesh. Her provocativeness amused him, yet he would not allow her to gain the upper hand.

A chuckle breezed past his lips as he placed his hand upon her eager posterior.

'Do you enjoy acting like my whore, Blood Traitor?'

Draco could not suppress the entertainment from his voice, as he dug his fingers into the soft alabaster apples that lay beneath his grip.

He waited patiently for a response, yet only received soft moans mumbled into the bedding.

Draco saw the opportunity to gain the long awaited power he so deeply craved over Ginny Weasley. The one who could never be broken.

His hand sprung back, only to fall with exceeded force directly onto where he placed it only moments before.

The red mark appeared instantly as Ginny jolted in pain to the sudden sting that reminisced on both of their skin. Smugness filled Draco with the thrill he was searching for. He felt like he had played the game long enough and pulled down the last item of clothing, rending himself completely uncovered.

Both his hands had wrapped themselves around Ginny's hips, as he aimed himself into her. Grabbing his unyielding shaft, he smeared his tip around the velvet entrance, torturing her further.

The youngest Weasley dropped her hands from herself as she begun clawed at the bedding, volumizing her groaning. Draco could already begin to feel the spasming of her muscles, as he was tickled by the twitching of Ginny's excitement, coating him in even more of her juices.

Rearing his head back, Draco shut his eyes tight as he restrained from entering her just yet. The thought of burying himself deep inside of her was incredibly tempting but Draco knew he would not be satisfied by just that.

He leant over her, his lithe body pressing over her as he bent down to her ear once again. His whispers were soft towards her, so there was more breath than speech.

'You will always answer your Master when he asks you a question.'

Draco saw her eyes close tighter as her hips rocked back into his. Bringing himself upright again, he sneered towards the girl, reuniting the curl of his hand with her throat and pulling her up until her front was poised off of the bed.

'I'll ask you again...'

The Death Eater's grip grew firmer by the second as his inked arm still wrapped its fingers around her narrow hips.

'Do you like **being **my whore, **Blood Traitor**?'

This time the phrase was harsher, demanding a response from the redhead. She whimpered meekly before a faint 'yes' could have been heard. Draco's smile grew wider as his eyes narrowed in wickedness bringing her head to his face. His voice remained low as he spoke into the wet hair before him.

'Louder.'

He barked his command quickly as a shiver revolved throughout his body.

'Y…Yes'

Ginny's voice quivered throughout the room and Draco's grin had extended across the whole of his face. He released his hold and pushed her back onto the bed and without further thought slid himself into Ginny, immersing in the moist, cushioned heat.

Draco held himself there, paralyzed by the pleasure. Freeing himself slowly, he pulled away catching on every ridge, weakening his knees even more. The indulgence tingled inside of him as he thrusted deep into Ginny once again.

Speeding up his pace subconsciously, he slammed into the submissive girl over and over again. Her moans were coarse as Ginny danced her hips onto Draco, as she encouraged the force that penetrated inside of her.

'Imagine what Potter would think…'

His taunt roused Ginny even further as she propped herself onto her arms, grinding vigorously onto the Death Eater behind her.

The momentum had begun to move the bed, as the thumping of wood echoed their movements.

'What would he think, if he knew I was deep inside of you?'

His slippery words fell from his mouth as he saw how they antagonised Ginny into bucking her hips more violently.

Draco let out a low grunt, as he gripped for support around her curves. He inclined himself forward, removing one of his hands and hooking his fingers into Ginny's mouth. As her tongue began to work round his digits, the sensation filled every part of him.

The pressure of the climax began to build in his back, as he felt it ripple in every part of him. He pulled himself out hastily, wiping the sweat that had unknowingly formed of his brow.

'Get on your back.'

Ginny complied, throwing herself so she faced Draco. He legs remained parted as she laid there confidently, waiting for him to continue.

Pushing her knees further apart roughly, Draco angled himself between her legs, lowering back into her.

His pace maintain as he forced all of his strength into her. The former Slytherin could feel her tightening around him, vacuuming the pleasure from within him. The redhead's moans had transformed into yells as she caressed Draco's toned abdomen with her hands.

Ginny's erupted with a large cry as her body contorted to the euphoria. The expression of her face screwed up in intensity and her mouth screaming for more, caused the climax to burst through Draco.

The electric ecstasy prickled over him, as he felt the liquid fill up inside of Ginny. He grinned in satisfaction as he swiftly released from her clutches and grabbed his wand.

Pointing it at himself, he panted 'Scourgify' instant dematerializing the sticky fluids. The young witch lay in delirium on the bed as she rested with her eyes closed. This suited Draco perfectly as he threw his clothes back on, readjusting them to the perfectionism they previously resembled.

The satisfaction tingled through him as he straight himself in the dressing table mirror.

Once his hair was fixed back in place and the redness has drained from his cheeks, he picked up his Hawthorn taking one last glance at Ginny.

**That **was the advantage he was looking for.


	10. The Changing of her Point of View

Chapter Ten

The Changing of her Point of View

* * *

Draco reached the parlour just as the sun excreted its last final desperate rays, bringing the evening breeze along with it. The pleasure of his encounter with Ginny abated at the back of his back of his mind, as he circled the room closing the fantastic dark green drapes that circumferenced it.

The prickle on his arm had begun to surface only moments before, as he knew the Dark Lord would be joining him soon.

The parlour – much like the rest of the manor – lay empty and cold regardless of the extravagant fixtures that resided within it. The bookcases which lined the entirety of the back wall remained untouched and perfectly kept. The seating was placed into the centre accompany by a large wooden table creating a focal point for the room, making it seem even more unlived in.

As Draco closed the final curtain, the burn intensified on his arm and the heat scolded the surface of his arm. Twitching in discomfort, two plumes of thick black fog erupted into the room.

With his usual composure, the Death Eater dropped onto one of his knee, lowering his head in a ceremonious bow. The smoke had begun to curl away into the air, fading into the dim lighting.

The Dark Lord's presence filled the cavernous room, as Draco could feel the scathe from his aunt's hooded eyes.

'You may rise.'

Acknowledging the invitation, Draco pushed himself to stand upright and brazenly averted his eyes directly towards the Dark Lord.

The rasped calmness of his voice chilled the room as well as the skin on Draco. The oppression that was emitted drowned the air, as the young wizard held his gaze towards the one who held the sovereignty over him.

Bellatrix had grown bored instantly, wandering around the parlour, dragging her talon like hands across Malfoy's possessions. His eyes followed her around the room as he was aware that at any time, her spoilt tantrums could interrupt the delicacy of their plan.

Since the battle, his aunt had covered her abrasion with a partial mask on the left side of her face. Not only could the tautness of the scar still be seen under it but it added to her characteristic lunacy.

A small ounce of pride expanded in his chest as he thought of the redhead that caused it. _The bitch deserves more than that for what she did. _

He distracted his view back to Lord Voldemort as the serpentine man twisted the Elder wand through his lengthily fingers.

'I hope that this will not be a wasted journey, young Draco.'

Dipping his blonde hair in response, a playful smirk began to play on Draco's lips. Extending his arm, he gestured towards the drinking cabinet.

'My Lord, it would be highly ungracious for me to not offer you the utmost hospitality.'

Bellatrix turned her crazed look towards the boy, narrowing her eyes in contempt. The Dark Lord smiled in response as he placed himself down onto the seat behind him.

'Bellatrix will fetch them. Now please, Draco, come sit.'

He invited the Death Eater to the seat opposite, regardless of whose property it actually was. Nevertheless Draco planted himself into the single chair, facing Lord Voldemort with an equally regal poise.

His aunt meanwhile, scoffed silently at the idea of serving Draco. Yet through her obedience of the Dark Lord, she made no hesitation in pouring the drinks with her wand.

Her ranks had slipped during the aftermath of Hogwarts. Since her blundering indiscretion of immobilising the Dark Lord, she had been treated more as an unequivocal slave who merely got under the toes of those who held importance.

She aimed the drinks over to the wooden table between the two wizards, as they laid with a soft clatter onto the surface.

The cold grey face leaned in closer to Draco as the single lidded eyes bore into his mind. This did not really bother him too much - every time the Dark Lord would come into contact, he could feel the searing flicker of his memories being probed.

He had nothing to fear as he allowed the magical penetration to continue, exposing all of which had happened since the past meeting.

'Now this, Draco… This is **very **interesting…'

He knew the exact memory he had seen, as the flashes of screaming copper hair revolved in his mind.

Draco could not help but smile, as the thought which he deeply wished to divulge had caught the necessary attention. Bellatrix twisted her mouth in the obvious annoyance of being excluded from the conversation as Lord Voldemort kept his gleaming eyes directly upon Draco.

'My Lord, if I may?'

A sinister grin played on the slit that would have normally have been a mouth, as his commander inclined his head for the boy to continue.

'The progress of the Blood Traitor has been highly… effective. She has turned against the Mudblood and acknowledges myself as her saviour. She has not been hard to convince.'

'What of her loyalties?'

'Great patience has been taken My Lord. In due time, her loyalties will be put to the test.'

'Intriguing…'

Draco could feel the stern look of his relative as she pranced over to his side.

'Fucking a Weasle now? Tut tut tut. What would mummy and daddy think of their ickle Draco sticking it in a traitor?'

Her shrill cackled erupted around them as Draco gave no response towards her, holding onto his dignity. The Dark Lord appeared to enjoy the high pitched words of Bellatrix as he turned to look for reciprocation. With permission, Draco could feel the twinkle of malice in his stormy eyes as he looked towards the insanity that crowed around him.

'My dear Aunt Bellatrix. Do you not think that perhaps your efforts would be best spent looking for Potter, rather than wasting no doubt well thought of taunts towards the family members you decided to murder – as usual?'

Although his speech was serious, the snideness was even more apparent as her smile was wiped victoriously for her scared face. Resuming business he turned back to Lord Voldemort, waiting for his cue as Bellatrix returning to skulking in the shadows.

'You have done me proud Master Malfoy… I am glad to see that you are surpassing your father's reputation. You're talents for the art of manipulation without magic, is something I find… **fascinating.**' Lord Voldemort paused as he straightened himself higher in the seat. His pointed tongue flicked across his lips as his emphasised the last word and Draco gave thanks to the speech. 'Is the bath proving as useful as you promised?'

'Most successful.'

A faint snigger could have been heard reminiscing in the shadows. Ignoring the annoyance, the blonde wrapped his fingers slowly around the goblet, unable to resist while the Dark Lord continued.

'I believe this recent change of events will be most beneficial…' A small yet plainly audible tap began to form in the corner of the room, where the deranged hair dangled into view. Pacing himself, Lord Voldemort had an obvious look of impetuosity mounted his expression. 'I did not expect her to evolve so, rapidly. And the Mudblood?'

_Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap._

'**Bellatrix! If you cannot obey, you will not participate!** You are excused!'

The deep echo of anger absorbed into every edge of the room. A brief sob fell from Draco's aunt as she ravelled into the cloud of darkness and leaving the manor.

Lord Voldemort smiled politely and he sedated from the outburst. Gesturing his hands towards the goblets on the table, he wrapped his spindly fingers around them, lifting to his lips as Draco did the same.

Holding it in his hand, the Death Eater leaned back into his chair, resting a foot on top of his knee.

'The Mudblood is proving more of a challenge than her younger friend. However I have given her the letter in hope that this will… aid in the changing of her point of view.'

He took another sip staring back towards the Dark Lord, who placed his goblet down opening his mouth in response.

'She lacks the fire of the redhead. I believe she will be very fragile. The letter was a very wise idea indeed.'

Draco could not help but smile in the praise as he forced his concentration into keeping his thoughts in perfect control. Lord Voldemort rose, causing the blonde wizard echoed his movements.

'Well I will continue to allow you to play host. You will hear of my arrangements soon.'

With that the Dark Lord left, encasing Draco into the magic blanket that disappeared as soon as it touched his skin.

A trace could still be felt in the room as he cleared the table of the evening's endeavours. He knew the Dark Lord was far from view and earshot of his mind yet Draco could not help the shame creeping into his chest as his mind distracted towards Ginny.

She had possessed his thoughts and thankfully this time it had proved useful but Draco knew of the dangers that would accompany this particular adventure. He imagined her moans reverberating around him as the tightness began to pull in his stomach.

Draco could not help but recall his own words, _imagine what Potter would think_… The very thought of what he would think, was the thing that encouraged him all the more.

Yet he could not afford to become distracted by such earthly desires, tonight was the night for business.


	11. Potter Had an Alternate Plan

Chapter Eleven

_Potter Had an Alternate Plan_

* * *

_Hermione walked down the dark stone corridor. Her feet carried her with their unknown intention as she could not force herself to stop. Her toes had digested the freeze that hovered across the serrated floor. _

_Although there was light, it streamed from behind her, banishing her shadow into the darkness she continued to stroll into. _

_The witch glided effortlessly as her hands outreached, expecting the door. As her finger met the rough wood she grasped the handle pushing to door wide._

_The Great Hall erupted with cheers as it was brightened by the faces of the whole of Hogwarts. Hands began to clap as the sound ricocheted, bouncing around in the shells of her ears. She scrambled her hands over them, protected them from the overwhelming welcome._

_Harry, Ginny and Ron stood by entrance clapping for her as well - they were all dressed in their dance robes. She gazed at them intently - gaining a sense of déjà vu, she focused her attention on Ron who wore his dusky pink, frilled robes. _

_She turned to her right to see the grand structure of Hagrid who wore an executioner's mask, yet it could not hide the unruly brown beard. _

_Everyone had their eyes upon her as she searched the room hopelessly for any clue as to why she was here. _

_Hermione's neck snapped backward, as her knees gave way from the palm that collided to the centre of her back. She landed with a thud, pushing her arms out for support. No pain travelled through her as the cold hands began to fix a metal collar around her neck._

_The ownership pulled her to scene ahead, as nobody removed their smiles or eruptions of jubilations. She craned her head to see the owner of the chain that was tied to her, and saw the sneering, pointed face of Malfoy._

_ He smiled to her, planting a dainty kiss on the top of her head as Harry moved towards her. _

_'Don't worry Hermione. After this, you will be able to find me.'_

_ He stepped backed to Ginny grabbing her hand enthusiastically. The clapping had begun to die as the sound of Dumbledore's voice boomed throughout the room._

_'Bring in the young man!'_

_Hermione's eyes ran around the room searching for her former headmaster, but could not spot the late wise wizard at all. Everybody turned their heads to the exit that lay at the side where the imposing double doors sprung open. A young wizard struggled between another two, as his built body fought feebly. _

_His face was half mutilated, unrecognisable and deep wounds were carved across his torso. As they threw him down next to her, he raised his head revealing the two hollow sockets where his eyeballs should have been._

_Again, the unmistakable voice of Dumbledore fell around her once more._

_'Behold! The Prince of Bulgaria!'_

_As he silenced, Hagrid stepped forward swinging back an extremely large axe and allowing the momentum of gravity to land it into the wizard's neck._

Hermione opened her eyes, allowing the daydream the slot into to semblance as she gathered every detail of what she saw. The soothing soft waves of water folded around her she comforted herself it the never ending heat.

The letter had no doubtedly caused her strain over the past few days as she made no further progress. She had not guessed a single riddle nor been able to interpret an individual word.

She allowed the lucidity to infect her mind as she prayed that it might recover some of her forgotten intelligence. After all, could it ever really leave a person?

As the bath carried her weight, she lingered above the bottom perhaps finding it best to exit the enchanting vessel.

Entering her room, Hermione untied her bathing towel as she dropped it to the floor. She stared down to her naked body, tracing her finger down the centre of her stomach.

Her bones had begun to fade from her skin as a layer had formed since she had begun to eat. At first it was excruciating as her stomach had its first taste for months, yet Verrill had supplied her a digestive potion to ease her discomforts.

It was easy to see that her body had absorbed everything that went past her lips and Hermione looked physically better than she had done in almost a year. The corner of mouth turned up in satisfaction as she grabbed her robe off of the bed.

Hermione had taken her seventh bath in the past few days, each session lasting for hours upon end. It cleansed her mind as well as her body and she felt it give organisation to the world around her.

She thought often of Malfoy and Ginny and how she had barely seen either of them. She had a vague mirage that bothered her frequently, one that depicted pain being inflicted upon her by her foe.

Many of her memories seemed deceitful because most of them held a surreal creep of madness. Hermione believed it to be nothing more than that, however she wasn't stupid enough to think that Malfoy could be trusted in anyway.

Even if he was in contact with Harry.

Was this not the fundamental confliction? What would happen if Malfoy and Harry had somehow devised a plan in which she and Ginny reunited with the estranged boy?

Fastening the robe around her, she searched for the letter within the newly arranged room. Although everything held its place, every night Hermione would awake to completely readjust it. Scrambling her hands under the pillow on the bed, she felt the rough texture as she peeled the parchment from under the pillow.

A writing set lay on the table at the end of her bed, grabbing for the carved chest she unlatched it. Pulling out the thin violet quill she unscrewed the ink and she carried it all back to the bed. As Hermione blackened the nib, she once again hypnotised herself with the words.

The fog in her brain would not clear as she stared hopeless down towards it, mimicking what she did so often. Her eyes could see a pattern but one that she could not comprehend. Harry's words pranced around her head and Hermione knew that what she saw was not merely just her imagination.

_After this, you will be able to find me…_

She kept repeated the phrase over and over again to herself and all she could think was how anything she saw was supposed to help the situation.

_Always start from the beginning._

Reminding herself of her own advice, a dim light sparked within her neurons as she held the letter closer to her face. Everything about her daydream seemed to hold some relevance, even the fact that she was at Hogwarts.

She rubbed her head furiously, attempting to spark some kind of brilliant idea from within. Hermione was afraid that all of her efforts were so concentrated into the blocking out the horrors, that it could not possibly function for any other purpose.

Tapping at her temple she gazed her eyes towards the last verse.

_The tower holds what's needed,_

_And the turner won't follow the rules._

_Dragons have not succeeded, _

_But you are not in the hands of fools._

The tower…

'Oh Merlin…'

Her soft whispers were barely loud enough for Hermione to hear the exclamation to herself. How could she of not spotted it before? How it of could seemed so ambiguous?

'Ravenclaw?'

Almost laughing, Hermione shook her bronze curls as she saw the logic of it all. Harry had known she had been captured and would somehow end up with Malfoy. How could he encrypt things in a nature of the world now, when she knew nothing about it? Why would Harry even think like that? Surely if he was to do this, he would talk about the things both of them knew. Namely, Hogwarts.

Yet what was it the tower held? It could not possibly have been the diadem, which for certain was destroyed within the Room of Requirement.

_Hang on…_

_Requirement made a side,_

Perhaps it was something to do with the diadem. Or even maybe the horcruxs…

_No, no, no… That's not right, they're __**can't**__ be any more horcrux's. _

Hermione discontinue the thought as she was positive that's not what the message would entail. Surely if it was something of that scale, Harry would most certainly not put it into this kind of letter. Additionally if it was that, she knew that Draco would have been able to decipher it himself.

This seemed far more personal.

_I'm looking at this in the completely wrong perspective. _

Then suddenly, it was as if the haze had instantly disappeared as it all became perfectly sensible.

_Hogwarts was the beginning of this all. The first thing I remember learning was the motto. 'Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus…' Never tickle a sleeping dragon! Draco is of course the dragon, considering that is the literal translation of his name. Merlin! How could I have been so __**stupid**__! _

Her thoughts sped off into every direction and the chaos of it all dragged her eyes along with it.

_And of course! The second thing I learnt about Hogwarts was the houses. Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Slytherin and Hufflepuff…_

Keeping her pattern of logic, she began to scrawl her ideas on the reverse side of the letter, making sure she didn't lose them in a sudden moment of insanity.

_Again, if I start from the beginning… the first thing that's learnt about the houses? The characteristics! Nobility, intelligence, ambition and fairness… The tower holds the logic…_

This time, the laugh did break free as a tear sprung free to roll down her cheek. The force hit her chest as the realisation rummaged to her core. How could have this letter been from anybody else? She knew instantly that this letter was indeed from Harry.

Yet this however only produced more questions, mainly why did he trust Draco with her and Ginny?

Her thirst to know more created a drive she had not felt, she acknowledged a challenge she could rise to and the quest for finding Harry was far more important than anything else she felt.

The picture of Ron erupted in her mind, his floppy hair and out dated robes. The ache of grief dissolved as she pushed it out replacing it with determination. Ron only wore those robes once and that was for the Yule Ball.

Perhaps Bulgaria did not have the royalty Dumbledore professed to. Perhaps it was for somebody else entirely…

Trying to not get ahead of herself, she read the letter from the beginning.

_Crouching below the firework,_

_The hours are chased into the snow._

_The lion begins to smirk,_

_As the swan triumphs her new beaux._

_Well I can only assume that the firework is a spell but when wasn't there a time we weren't trying to crouch from a spell… Crouch… _

_Crouch…_

_Barty Crouch…_

_It is the Yule ball!_

_Okay… Okay… I have to stay objective._

Closing her eyes, she allowed her mind to wander within its limitations, careful to not expose what she so greatly needed to keep suppressed.

Sinking back into thought, a gentle crack burst at the end of her bed.

Looking up, she saw Draco Malfoy looking upon her as if his intrusion was the most casual thing.

Tilting his vision towards the letter, Hermione tried to not stare directly at him.

He turned to find a chair, as soon as he spotted one - Draco took a seat resting his elbows onto his knees.

'I see that you are clearly feeling much better.'

His tone was almost friendly, as though they had made a pleasant exchange many times. Hermione remained silent unsure of what to answer with. Sneaking a glance toward the Death Eater, she saw the unmistakable twitch of annoyance.

'How are you finding the letter?'

His words vibrated every hair on her skin, she did not wish to answer but her temptation to gloat of her discovers became rather overwhelming.

'I've figured out some parts…' reluctantly she continued, 'but I know it's from Harry.'

Silence rung around and she saw a small smile emerge on Malfoy's lips. Since she had been here, he had offered her clothing, food, hospitality. There was no real reason anymore to despise him, yet the bitterness of her grudge for him standing alongside Voldemort would not leave her.

She did not understand anything and felt constantly like everything was changing, that she stuck in the centre of the chaotic whirlpool. All of a sudden, the gates came crashing down as she begun to speak before she had even thought.

'I need to know some answers. I can't do this otherwise. I have no idea what is going on! I can't even trust my own mind anymore! And I'm sick of all of this! What the **fuck** is going on Malfoy!'

Hermione stood in shock at her own words, before the emotion intensified as she realised that she had arose from the bed and stood inches away from the Death Eater.

His face emitted the usual boredom and indifference as he leant back into the chair.

'I told you. Would you have believed me if I told you before you read the letter?'

Hermione absorbed his words as she wanted to dismiss them but knew that what he was saying was perfectly. The girl sat back down onto the bed, sighing in utter exasperation.

'Verrill has told me that you have taken full advantage of the resources I have provided for you.'

She nodded her head slowly confused by his statement.

'Excellent. Then I will tell you exactly what is going on.'

The former Gryffindor tensed in anticipation, unsure if she was going to like what she heard.

'During our sixth year at Hogwarts I was placed on a mission to assassinate the headmaster, in fear of this decisioning I sought refuge in Potter. Needless to say, he dismissed my claims as a trick and events unfolded as you knew.'

Pausing, Hermione took the opportunity to take in all of which he said. Although it was a surprise, it was not a deniable shock.

'At Dumbledore's funeral Potter approached me in an attempt to reconcile as believed that what I had said was true after I obliged to a dose of Veritaserum. After which an agreement was made between himself and I. In which entailed you and Ginny.'

At this precise moment, Hermione held her breath tight for what he had to say. She wanted to prompt his silence but could not find the ability to speak. The tension began to build as she waited.

He stared at her almost accusingly as she felt uneasy under his resolute eyes. Malfoy gave a small sniff and continued once again.

'The said arrangement was that of a contingency plan in case Potter failed.'

She could not believe his words as not even a stutter could fall from her lips. If she felt numb before this was nothing to reaction from what had be consumed by her ears.

'We conducted a plan which involved various eventualities of the war. If your side was to win, my loyalties would remain with the Dark Lord until the very last moments. Once victory was yours I would have been free from persecution. However if he was to fail, we estimated there would be more than likely one outcome.'

'Unfortunately however, nothing went according to plan, yet there were countermeasures for if Potter died, which would have been the exact same circumstances you and Ginny appear to be in now. He was afraid of Weasley's irrational anger and feared that at some point he would have gotten himself killed, which is why I was appointed to keep you safe.'

Hermione remained absolutely dumfounded as she stared at him with vacantly wide eyes. Choking on her own voice, she pushed the cracked words from her mouth.

'W…What else?'

Malfoy kept his face serious and there was no trace of amusement nor irritation on his features.

'Potter had an alternate plan, which was why he left you at the cabin. This I cannot tell you about, since he never divulged me on those details. Yet I can guarantee the letter holds some clue on to how to find him. There have been many letters, all were easily to solve in retrospect, but this… This wasn't meant for me.'

Hermione's fingers quivered against the parchment as she want scream, shout and swear. Her heart would not feel content with any action she would perform. Her body clearly decided that it was best to perform nothing.

She had no idea what to answer as Draco slowly arose.

'I think knowing this information will help you with the letter. Ginny also wishes to see you, she will be sent tomorrow. I'll return in a few days.'

With that he left, leaving Hermione completely speechless and have no incentive on what to do. She fell to her side in shock, gripping at the parchment as she closed her eyes.

_""_

_Both she and Ginny were paraded through the Great Hall, up to the stage. Lord Voldemort sat were Dumbledore once did, alongside Bellatrix, displaying themselves on their extravagant thrones. _

_The rough, brutal hands of Rookwood still held his sandy grasp upon Hermione's coat collar. She gazed with wide open eyes, absolutely petrified as her heart began to frantically pummel inside of her. _

_Swallowing hard her legs had begun to stop moving as she was dragged closer to the Dark Lord._

_Everything slowed down as she tried to find some ability within her to fight back. Hermione's face seized as the tears of terror began to fill her horrified eyes. The man holding her showed her no sympathy as all it would take was another tug and she would be under his force once again._

_Drawing nearer to the stage, her legs continued to slip underneath as she began to scream in desperation. There was a stool waiting, with the sorting hat placed on top._

_The Death Eater dragged her straight to it and Hermione began to squirm in despair._

_ She was not ready to die._

_So many times this evening she had felt the clutches of death sucking her soul away from the mortal realm. Sparing a thought for Ginny, she cursed her mentally hoping that she would receive the fate she deserved. Especially seeing as she was the one who screamed Voldemort's name in order to become captured._

_Hermione despised the redhead's death wish and was glad Ron did not make it far enough to see how spiteful his little sister had become. _

_The brunette was thrown towards the stool, causing a large contusion to instantly bleed on her forehead. The hundreds of Death Eater's behind her cheered even louder as she peered up to a pair of smooth pale feet draped sinisterly by a black robe. _

_Lord Voldemort stood above her and he caster her up, placing her on the stool like an enchanted doll. _

_A relaxing fragrance filled her nostrils as she could not help but stare to the seated crowd before her. They began to hush down as Lord Voldemort began his speech. _

_'This is what our hard work has come to! We have conquered Hogwarts!'_

_A great roar of celebration echoed around._

_'We have taken the wizarding world!'_

_Once again hands clapped and men yelled._

_'And now… We have taken Potter's women!'_

_The Great Hall became a mass of hysteria as insults, whistles and fists were thrown into the air. _

_Hermione could not possibly move herself and the emptiness of the Imperious curse support her physically as she felt her inside beginning to die._

_A gentle touch caressed and compassed her head as she felt the soft fabric of the sorting hat being placed on the top her head._

_Laughter cackled not only ahead but from behind as even the Dark Lord could not hold back his glee._

_A loud chocking cough bursted from the hat's folds as it flexed on top of her hair._

_'The Mudblood belongs in the camps!'_

_Everyone began to celebrate even more as Hermione was dragged from the stool by Rookwood once again. She felt the curse lift and her senses returned._

_Kicking and scream they dragged her away and the last memory of that life ,was the sight of Ginny almost smiling as she accepted whatever was to come._

_""_


	12. Never Again

Chapter Twelve

_Never Again _

* * *

Her red hair swayed behind her captivatingly as Ginny stormed the corridor with the clanker of her heels echoing her footfalls. Each step was assertive, commanding her rage onto the wooden floor.

No light streamed through the impressive windows as the clouds collected over the full moon. The wind vacuumed down the hallway as a strong draft rustled the underneath of her garments.

As her full length black gown fluttered around her ankles, her arms swung aggressively at her side, as Ginny possessed her wand in defiant anger.

Her new Aspen wand kept slipping through her fingers - she gripped it tightly, building up a clammy sweat around the reasonably supple wood.

She could feel herself growing weaker by the second, as her physical deterioration grew. She felt tired and dizzy as she perused forward, persisting to not falter. Her breath was short as she developed a slight pant, but continued walking nonetheless.

The lengthily walk did not deter Ginny as she held purpose in heart and determination in her brain. Turning sharply around the corner she tripped into a small unseen object and Ginny caught herself against the wall, preventing the embarrassment of crashing to the floor.

Looking down below her, she saw Verrill rubbing his face in confusion.

'You stupid, fucking, **elf**!'

In utter rage, Ginny's freckled face screwed up tightly as she began to kick the elf with the tip of foot – needless to say, with unnecessary force.

'Do you not have anything better to do, you **nearly** breed?'

The viciousness bit into Verrill as the elf looked up apologetically, with tear stricken eyes towards the girl. He frantically began faffing around with his hands, scouring away at his pink veiny skin as Ginny's foot returned to the ground.

'Verrill is most remorseful Mistress Weasley! Verrill did not…'

Ginny held her hand up to signal for him to stop. His pathetic grovelling had no place in her evening and she pulled a thin strand of hair from her face.

'I do not care for your pitiful excuses. Leave!'

The redhead began to march off into the darkness as she gave a mumble of 'do something useful' towards the house elf.

She had reached Draco's door and her pace descended. The pasty sweat had evolved on her body and involuntary Ginny's arm extended to lean against the wall.

Disequilibrium fluctuated at the front of head and she began to feel incredibly sick. An electric tingle fell to the tip of her fingers and she could feel her hands shaking without authority.

Falling against the wall, Ginny urged herself forward towards the ebony double doors, banging her palm weakly onto the panelling.

Almost slipping through the threshold, the redhead felt herself collide with Draco's warm body. Her weight slipped through his hands and she could barely concentrate on anything around her. Trying to fight the darkness, Draco hauled her up and into the study.

When her smoky eyes finally fluttered open, she was poised on a large armchair with the blonde hovering above her. The sound of glass cluttered together and the distinctive jangle of lock and keys rattled against one another.

An aggressive monologue boomed in the distance as her body moved far before her mind was ready. As Ginny's vision swayed she could feel all the liquids swishing inside of her.

'Merlin Ginny! Do you ever fucking give up?'

Draco's voice tunnelled around her and she felt him push her back down to her seat. While the youngest Weasley's eyes return to normal balance, she placed her eyelids over them in order to gain organization in the dark abyss.

The cold touch of glass caressed her lips as she felt Draco's hand slip behind the back of head. Keeping her eyes closed, her mouth found the edge and she happily took the fluids that were presented to her.

It tickled down her oesophagus and added to the contents of her stomach. Her nails clenched around Draco's wide wrist as she began to gulp down the sour potion. With each drop she felt the edge of delirium fading as Ginny became restored within herself.

The illustration of Draco converged into one solitary image, looking down Ginny noticed how far she had dug her nails into the Death Eaters pale skin. Releasing her hold in an instant, the thin lines of blood seeped from his crescent wounds.

Collapsing further into the chair Ginny's head rolled feebly on her neck, as though it was far too heavy to support. Her eyes were half open as she gazed towards Draco, who healed the wounds easily with his wand.

Once the sparkles had disappeared from his arm, he stared menacingly toward the girl. Ginny felt a creep of terror run through her, yet her defiance was still evident regardless of her physical weakness.

She would not allow him to intimidate her, nor to rule any kind of authority over her. As far as she was concerned, he was not the one in charge.

His pointed face softened slightly as Ginny continued to hold her glare. Without moving a single part of her, she knew she had won the fight. No matter how insignificant, Ginny reassured herself that she could always remain in control.

Draco opened his mouth, ready to speak and Ginny felt bored already by his incessant drawls.

'Better?'

She stayed silent, not sure whether it would beneficial to answer instantly. The redhead could not help but trace her sienna eyes across the Death Eater. The image of him dressed in his ceremonial clothing possessed her mind as she dropped her gaze towards the Dark Mark.

The thought of something so evil being scared in his skin for all eternity seemed so strangely arousing and her mind began to wander.

Something about the whole affair incited a thrill of excitement as Ginny knew how sordid the situation had become. The memory of his hands digging into her flesh filled her head, as she felt the lust for the taboo that was Draco Malfoy.

She smiled to him sweetly, allowing her eyes to smoulder into his contrastingly bright ones. Ginny straightened herself grabbing Draco's hand gently.

She knew the affection would stir some sort of curiosity within Draco and after all she had to assure that her place was not taken by the Mudblood.

'It was much more effective than the last one.'

She retracted her touch as well as crossing her legs as the sudden alertness had returned. The potion had done its job successfully as the clarity recovered. Ginny tilted her head, allowing the long copper waves of her hair to tumble down her side.

Her hands fell into the silken texture as she could not resist teasing the glossy locks. Draco sat onto the low table behind him, allocating his wand next to him alongside the empty crystal goblet.

She continued to look at the blonde wizard before her. Draco had given her everything. Luxuries and possessions she could never have dreamed of, beautiful robes and gowns from the furthest reaches of the globe. Her health was all due to his care and attention to detail, making sure the slightest ailment was cured.

Yet the thing she was most certain of was that not only had he save her as a person but he had shown and taught more things in the past weeks than anyone else had in her entire life.

'I must say Malfoy - your talent for potions is almost overwhelming.'

A faint snigger appeared of Ginny's lips as she could not help but humour the situation. She could not stand to live a life constantly looking over her shoulder, scared of that any moment she cold of been pounced on like the helpless meat she was.

_Never again_, she swore to herself that she would never be anybody's slave again.

Draco too smiled in response as he relaxed his composure, pushing his rolled sleeves further up his arms.

'I think perhaps that your body is adjusting to it more. It was the same brew as the last - there was not much more room for experimentation. It is a dangerous potion to make you know.'

Both of their faces relaxed into an almost friendly composure and Ginny stood, waltzing towards the drinking cabinet.

Although her comments were flippant an element of truth still resonated in her words. Draco truly was skilled with potion making, not many wizards could perform so much intricacy and with such a high risk.

Her feelings of the Death Eater were obscure, she felt as though this was a different life. Nothing seemed how it used to and she felt reborn in world of war and politics. Now Ginny had a path to lead, a destiny to fulfil. Instead of being vulnerable and pathetic, she could be dominant and wealthy.

She would never allow shame or guilt to ever corrupt her being again, yet Ginny was determined to hide the fact that actually, she was incredibly thankful to Draco to welcoming her into his world of opportunities.

Despite the fact she made her secret oath to never be placed in captivity by another human being, Ginny felt that to play along with Malfoy's needs were utterly necessary. Additionally, she knew she would be getting something out of it. Something that once was just a hopeless dream had now manifested into a tangible destiny. No long would Potter be the only chosen one.

'Do you have my wand Malfoy?'

Turning with invite, Ginny could not help but pout her lips in interest. Their eyes connected and her thoughts became full of the pleasure from their last concurrence.

The young man stood without hesitation, calmly walking towards Ginny.

She could feel the eruption of heat coursing through her body as she desperately wanted to move but found herself completely immobilised. The redhead felt crippled by desire as Malfoy drew nearer with evident salaciousness spreading across his face.

Before she knew it his nose was inches from hers and she felt the electricity from his presence. Ginny couldn't avoid sinking into the tension that built between the two and not once had his eyes left hers.

Her brain felt the need to look elsewhere but she dared not lower her gaze. The whole of her body had become rigid, impossible to move and inch as she waited patiently for Draco's ploy.

The chilled touch of wood caressed her arm, sending pure adrenaline to rush through her veins. She felt the pound of lust surging around every part of her as the wand fell into her fingertips.

'There we go…'

Malfoy's whispers enhanced her craving for him as she submitted to her will and her glare travelled down towards his colourless lips. As they rested on his mouth, the thin line of his trademark smirk began to appear.

He stepped away suddenly leaving Ginny stunned in frustration. The Death Eater turned to sit back on his chair as the eager girl continued to stare in bewilderment at the suddenly obvious allure.

Draco had shown her the bait and she had taken it willingly.

Opening the cabinet with her wand in apparent annoyance, Ginny poured two goblets of firewhisky. As she turned to Malfoy, he had materialised a chair the other side of the table to his own. Ginny walked over with a goblet in each hand and she placed them of the glass surface as she sat down.

Malfoy's finger grabbed for the drink as soon as it left Ginny's hands as she smoothed out her hair. He finished the drink within one gulp as the hollow clatter hit the table.

'You and the Mudblood will be meeting in about an hour.'

Ginny's varnished eyes snapped towards Draco. It was the words she had sought after and a drip of venom slipped down her spine. However, she could tell he was not finished as the thought of a question lay of his usually unreadable expression.

'Why did you not tell her of Potter?'

His speech caused a heat of anger to prickle through Ginny's head as she swallowed thickly, planning the execution of her words.

'How could I Malfoy? Did you expect me as well to somehow get away from them, away from the castle? If I could have done that, believe me I would have and I most certainly would have not gone into the camps.'

Motionlessly she spoke, yet she could not mask the pain in her voice.

Ginny's rage fired inside of her, not only towards Malfoy for the audacity of his question but towards Harry to who expected such a task of her.

Yes, he would come visit her hidden under a Death Eaters mask to heal her wounds but all he wanted was a message sent to precious Hermione.

She was to put her life at risk and pray that she - at the very best - was killed while trying to escape. If she was capture, there would consequences that were beyond inconceivable. Tortured with magic only the Dark Lord knew, ones he had created personally.

All of that, for one message.

Draco narrowed his perception at her in near concern as his eyebrows hooded his eyes. He dipped his head and rubbed his eye with the tips of his fingers in synchronisation.

'How many times did he visit you?'

Ginny looked away in astonishment, unsure of the purpose of the questions she was being asked. She did not wish to rake the past but was compelled nonetheless to answer his curiosities.

'Four times.'

She did not know what else to say and Ginny felt uneasy under the interrogation.

'And you say he was highly concerned with the Mudblood?'

His manner remained professional but Ginny sensed the words were not easy for him to say. 'I suppose you could put it like that.' Her words were quiet as she felt a new desperate need to end the conversation.

Almost reading her thoughts Draco pausing, only to grab his wand and refilled his goblet.

'Tell me what happened?'

The crimson flare struck to her cheeks as the infuriation reached a new high. _Tell you what happened!_ Ginny repeated to his words in her mind.

'What the fuck is that supposed to mean!'

She stood up in protest, her fists clenched tight around her weapon.

'I fear your instabilities will affect our plans. Although I approve of your… passion I cannot afford you to make any misjudgements because you cannot control your emotions.'

Ginny gulped down her inflated pride and sat back down to Draco's annotation.

'Over the course of the next few days you will learn to bite your tongue. I have allowed you to see your friend - if you behave you will be dining with me and the end of the week.'

She felt the need to object but could not find any dialogue to do so. She took note of the rewards for if she 'behaved.' However she found no other reason to question him and took a hasty sip from the drink before her.

'Forgive me - I will of course obey your wishes.' As her confident poised return, she knew it was best to comply with Draco but she would allow him to have all the fun.

'Master.'

She said the word with little thought, knowing it would prove effective. As soon as the last syllable left her lips she saw the scorch of need behind the artic eyes. Ginny was fully aware of the impact that word held over Draco, especially due to nature it was concerning when it was last spoken.

The redhead arose gracefully, allowing the russet mane to ripple down her ivory complexion and the thin dress rustled softly against her skin.

'If I may be excused?'

Raising an eyebrow cockily she saw the look of surprise on Draco's face and before any reaction could have been made by him, she closed her eyes tightly and thought of where the bewitching bath laid in its magnificent emerald cave.


	13. Just Like Potter

**Hi guys! :D**

**Once again just another note to say, OMFG THANK YOU :)**

**So, things are getting pretty interesting now huh? I will get around to going over the stories and editing all the typo's and missing words. Which everyone has been incredibly patient with my lack of a beta reader xD**

**I hope everyone is still enjoying the story and once again, thankyouthankyouthankyou!**

**Of course all reviews are welcome! Don't be shy :3**

**X**

Chapter Thirteen

_Just Like Potter_

* * *

Hermione pulled the edge of the headboard towards her, forcing all of weight to drag the enormous four poster bed. The screech of wood wailed from beneath her as the pitched noise curled her blood. She never did like any sounds like that.

She had finally achieved getting the bed to the other side of the room as Hermione stopped for breath, wiping her hair back from her face. She collapsed onto its surface satisfied that she had successfully worn herself out from furniture arranging.

It was the only thing where didn't have to think, where her brain would become docile and her only solitary thought was that of getting an object from one place to another.

She felt like the compulsion was necessary to retain the clarity she had gained. After all, she could not stay in the bath forever and needed something she could perform routinely and as quickly as the compulsions came to her.

Siting back up, Hermione realised she could not jeopardise her appearance as she wanted to give physical reassurance towards Ginny that everything was going to be fine. She could not do so however if her robe was creased and her curls unruly.

Hermione frantically began rearranging her clothing, fiddling with clasps and collars', assuring everything was perfect. As she bent down to brush her hem, a distinctive echo of feminine footsteps paced on the other side of the door.

In that exactly moment, Hermione was sure her heart had stopped and she froze, bent in fear.

The sound drew nearer as she knew Ginny would be soon at the door. The anticipation of arrival threw nausea into Hermione's stomach as she had been caught in fear like this many times.

The thought of Greyback prowling around her tent could not help but spring to her mind as she fought the memory from blossoming into a coherent mirage.

She was far away from that and tried hard to be rational and not imagine she was in the exact same position. She had been indoctrinated with trauma and torture and it was only natural to constantly assume that the danger was always around her.

Biting her lip, Hermione stood up trying to concentrate on the matter at hand. The footsteps became far more audible as they stopped and the shadow of the feet danced on the crack of light at the bottom of the door.

A knocked of two hit the wooden barrier as the sound caused Hermione to jump slightly and the doorknob began to turn in succession.

It opened wide and Ginny stepped in, closing the door behind her. She turned to face the stunned brunette as Hermione was lost for words.

_She looks beautiful._

The startling brightness of the copper hair was what caught Hermione's eye initially but an exotic floral scent followed, filling the room and intoxicating her senses.

Ginny looked unrecognisable – Hermione had never seen her look so mature and elegant. A complete transformation from when she had last seen her. The redhead stood completely still, a porcelain statue.

The eldest was voiceless. She did not know where to possibly begin, what could she say? What could she do? Her nerves built as Hermione patted down her plain scarlet robe. This had been their first opportunity to talk in nearly a year. Both of which had been pushed to extremities of human survival since then.

Overall, Hermione could only feel overwhelmingly relieved of that fact that Ginny was alive and well.

The brunette had an urge of real emotion wash over her and the compassion and kindness she thought she had lost reclaimed her in a staggering wave shattering her emotional guard.

Almost running towards her, Hermione threw her arms around the petite girl, close to tears as she held Ginny tight.

She knew now that this was real. The guilt of everything she felt began to well as Hermione noticed that lack of reciprocation in Ginny's body language. She stood strongly, but did not move her arms or the blankness on her face.

Acknowledge the hostility Hermione pulled away bashfully, still unsure of what to say or do next. She needed to convince herself that this was real but could not help feel the involvement of Malfoy, unsure of whether any part of situation had some external control.

Hermione could understand why she was so unresponsive, the last thing you need after physical brutalisation was somebody embracing you.

She could not avoid the ever bubbling feeling of shame, even though everything was far beyond her aid. The lack of asking after her younger friend was enough however to incite such negative emotion.

Yet Ginny just stood there, resembling how she did in the tent - as though Hermione didn't even exist.

The awkwardness built and Hermione fumbled in her mind for action that required speech to form. Her throat was dry and her chest was empty as she looked pitifully towards the stationed girl.

She felt like she was in a dream, screaming for help but no sound would leave her no matter how hard she tried. Remaining to keep a steady control of her breathing, she took another step away from Ginny, finding the space to think.

'H..How are you?' Hermione spluttered towards her, as she uncomfortably rubbed her arm.

She was afraid of Ginny's answer, knowing that it was never the first question one wanted to here. The redhead said nothing, slowly moving her eyes up and down Hermione. She felt incredibly uneasy as she tightened her arm over herself, acting as a physical barrier.

Looking down at the carpet, Hermione would no longer acknowledge the perceptive judgment that Ginny chose to exhibit. It was foolish to think that she would have behaved any differently, after all she was the one trapped in the castle, subjected to unspeakable acts.

'Fine.'

The word pieced the air as Hermione pulled her amber eyes up, almost forgetting the question at hand.

An anxious smile struggle on her mouth, dipping her head she forced the curls to fall over the front of her face - protecting her from the overbearing unpleasantries.

'Well… Erm… That's great.'

Hermione could not suppress the nerves from her voice, thinking I would perhaps to be best to not speak through her hair. Tucking the lock behind her ear, she snuck a glance at Ginny – still attempting to radiate some sort of cheerfulness.

The freckled witch remained perfectly serene with a hint of transcendence glazed onto her face.

Hermione shifted her weight on her feet restlessly and her hands once again instantly started to smooth down her faded geranium robe.

Begging for her mouth to continue, speech spilled before her mind had even made the connections. 'How has… I mean… Is… Malfoy?' She bit her lip as she had to force the name from her. 'How is he with you?'

Turning her head, Hermione averted her eyes to the corner of the room. Out the edge of her peripherals, an unusual leer played Ginny's expression but girl endured muteness.

Her heavily made up face lay like a guise covering the thoughts and feeing triumphantly. That was if she actually felt or thought anything.

Hermione became to lose her nerve more and more as the silent moments dripping pass only aiding her with anxious fiddles on her garments. Simply, she had no idea what to think.

Whatever she could form in her mind would just seem like insincere mumbles, although the perplexing matters seeped into every vessel waiting for an eruption to take place.

The brunette could not make any sense of this – much like everything else. It had come to her suddenly with no preparation and yet somehow she was supposed to survive every ordeal that came her way.

Ginny appeared completely indifferent by Hermione's presence, someone who was nothing short of a family member. Mafloy, her nemeses was offering her promises of Harry and proof of safety and stability.

She thought she was being taken to Malfoy Manor for torture and exploitation and in fact what had been presented to her here could not have been further from that ideology. She had been separated from Ginny so many times now she couldn't even spare a thought for her.

How could she have any understanding of a world that had been turned upside down?

Now they both stood there as veterans of misery, while Hermione attempt to reconcile a relationship of someone she didn't even recognise anymore.

The conflictions caused an internal uproar, bursting Hermione at the seams.

'Ginny… I just have **no **idea what to say… Everything has changed.' A looked of plea broken through on Hermione's face as she looked helplessly towards her ambiguous best friend whom just stood there almost lifelessly.

A heat fuzzed behind her eyes as her frustration built. After everything, Ginny could of at least have said something. Anything. If was difficult enough to tell if the girl was still breathing, let alone whether she gave any thought on the subject.

Hermione felt impossibly desperate for the truth. Her life was constantly built on secrets and plans all in order to get the upper hand. She was sick of it, sick of all the lies, the hate and most certainly the persecution.

The feeling of everything swirled out of control as her heart gave a more furious tick.

In the concept of it all, when she was in the camps she understood her positioning. She was prey and she had to survive whatever the cost was. Although it felt like an eternal hell, this had all now become game of riddles and mystery.

The anxiety rose as she felt completely subordinated once again.

'Please Ginny. I **need **to know what's going on.'

The panicked voice lingered in the air and once again, stillness was brought upon them.

Hermione sighed breathlessly knowing all she could do was wait. It had been so long since Ginny had spoken to her, she had almost forgotten what she even sounded like.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a sly grin that appeared on Ginny's face. The blood red lips widened as a queasy sense of uneasement filled the room.

Hermione had seen this expression only a few times before and recognised it instantly. It had always reminded her of a cat about to play with the pathetic, lost mouse.

'Oh.' Ginny's mouth had formed a perfect oval as she said the word, resting it back pursed with a wicked glint in her dark eyes. 'Didn't Malfoy tell you?'

Hermione felt awful as she could not understand why was under cessation, especially from Ginny. It was impossible to think the world had made her this way and she held the tainted signs of Malfoy Manor.

A painful clutch wrenched at her heart as everything she felt on the inside began to slip away. The voice that rested at the back of her mind muttered it's misgivings but no matter the game, she knew she had to find out the truth. However Ginny would not continue and this only heightened the curiosity within Hermione.

Since she had been given the letter her brain had felt empty and shrivelled, impossibly thirsty for stimulation and learning. The riddles had awaken this and the treasures of the room fed what the mystery couldn't.

She had rearranged the room so many times that no more secrets lay within it and each book had no page that wasn't scanned hungrily by Hermione eyes. They ran frantically across every surface as they attempted to keep up with her thoughts.

'What do you mean?' The exclamation spluttered from Hermione's mouth and she knew that it was just the beginning of a long supressed explosion.

'I don't understand Ginny!' The eldest witch began to shriek. 'How on earth am I supposed to know what Malfoy's said! I've barely seen him! Besides I **know **you know something! What's happen to you Ginny! We use to be friends…'

In that instant all the rage she had thrown at Ginny was instantly directed right back at her. The Weasley stepped forward, snarling not far from Hermione.

'How fucking dare you!' Ginny roared, causing the muggle-born to finch in surprise. 'Friends?! You're a good for nothing **Mudblood**!'

Utter astonishment appeared on Hermione's face as the evident heartbreak was all too visible. She had been called the derogatory term so many times, yet hearing it from Ginny was something she not only never imaged but it was the most painful having hearing it spoken by her.

'You did was you always do! Most of the Death Eaters weren't even sure you were alive! Everyone always kept speaking of how the famous Hermione Granger managed to hide under the cloak. Always ready to run away and hide, aren't you? How many times did you listen to our school friends screaming for mercy while you hid away? Just like Potter! Neither of you gave a shit!'

'How many times did you listen to them all **screaming** for somebody to help them Hermione?! While you were lying awake at night, hoping Potter would come and save you?'

The shock of all of which Ginny had just spat only left Hermione with an open mouth. The guilt had been trigged as she forced the never ending cries of the sinless from her head.

'Funny isn't, they didn't even want the disgrace of lowering themselves to fuck a Mudblood.'

Hermione just stood there as the scene replayed over and over in her head. All of it merging into one as was in completely denial about what she had just heard.

It just would not sink in - that Ginny was standing before her - verbally degrading her. Yet the novelty shock of the term lasted only momentarily as something else began to occupy her attention.

As she repeated the words to herself, something appeared incredibly strange, even more so than the context of the redheads speech.

'Harry.'

The name was strong and Hermione held confidence in her tone as she focused her gazed towards the smoked eyes of Ginny.

She could see the rage instantly diffusing within her visitor as she looked on to account Ginny for what she had said. As the confusion continued and her breathing calmed, she snapped a short 'what?' towards Hermione.

'His name is Harry. You've never called him Potter before.'

Hermione's brows furrowed and the concern for Ginny increased. This girl was most certainly not the one she remembered. She could not believe that world had corrupted her to this. The only person she could attempt to hold close, had now turned her back all those good that remained.

Hermione could only conclude one thing as she threw a questioning look towards Ginny. Perhaps it wasn't the world that had turned her against the good. Perhaps it was the Death Eater, whom she had clearly chosen to lie with.

_How could she do this Harry?_

Sadness filled her as she seemed to be the only one not willing to commit betrayal to those all around. Although she needed to find Harry - she needed to know if his was okay, if he was alive -she could not deny that he too had caused abandonment and lies. Yet, this was different.

Harry did what he had to do.

'What's happened to you, Ginny?'

The shockwave of her anger hit Hermione like an Unforgivable Curse.

'**What happened to me**?! I was tortured in **every **kind of way! I was experimented on and caged up! They would beat me and curse me, and do… the worst they could! I was cursed with magic that would kill me if was every away from them!'

'They did things to me and made kill people! Half of my school year is dead because they **made me**! Even your worst nightmares wouldn't cast a shadow on what they did!'

Hermione for the first time noticed the wand Ginny carried, as bright red sparks began to fly from the tip. She continued to reel off the horrors onto Hermione's ears and she felt increasing ill to every deposition that was made.

'They humiliated me and violated me beyond any of your understand!'

The coarseness of her words brought tears of terror to her eyes. She could never imagine her friend being used and tormented in such ways and although Hermione tried deeply to repel the thought of shame, she knew she could never understand what Ginny had subjugated to.

Yet there had to be something she could say to diminish the elevating levels of pain and suffering within Ginny.

'I have a letter from Harry.'

Hermione felt as though she shouted the words and judging from Ginny's reaction, it appeared that it was the case. The wand instantly ceased the emotional sparks and the redhead's eyes locked onto Hermione, captured in her moment of fury.

'Well Harry didn't send it to me… He sent it to Malfoy who then gave it to me to decipher… But I know he's alive.'

Her convictions were wholehearted as she tried to ignore everything Ginny had just said. How many times had Hermione said things in the heat of the moment, only to regret it as soon as it had been said?

She allowed the speech to ponder, as she felt like there was nothing else she could say. Hopefully, it would have made Ginny aware of the hope that was still possible.

Ginny's thoughts were easily construed on her expression as Hermione felt relieved that finally, she could make some understanding of everything. She watched the features on the Weasley as even though the youngest was covered in cosmetics and jewellery, the family traits were unmistakable.

As the dark eyes narrowed, Hermione's relief soon turned to anxiousness as a look of pure accusation formed on the fawned face before her. The tension seethed from Ginny as she took a step back in revelation.

'How could you have just left him?'

The anguish speared through Hermione's heart, shattering it to every piece. Her head became incredibly warm and the prickle of tears leaked freely. Surely Ginny would have understood by now.

'I had no choice!' Hermione screeched.

Collapsing to her knees she felt like she couldn't breath as she was consumed by agony and remorse.

Ginny walked nearer as she bent her head down to the hysterical girl. Hermione began clutching at straws of her hair, as she often did when trying to dispose of her sadness.

The crazed upset only delved further as Hermione could not stop Ron's dead face popping into her mind.

'We always have a choice.' Ginny spat towards her.

Hermione looked up in sorrow, inconsolable from past events. Ginny aimed her wand at the door and a loud click could have been heard.

The young witch remained on the floor, confused by Ginny's actions. However her ears became drowned with the sound of he own cries as the illustration of Ron danced in her mind.

The redhead walked towards the bookcase, pulling out one at random only to throw only onto floor. Pacing around it she settled on a spot, looking at Hermione's grievously distressed form. Whatever game Ginny wanted to play, she could.

Hermione didn't care anymore and the pure regret ran through her.

'Incendio!'

Hermione widened her eyes to the shock of the sudden flames that the girl before her had created onto the book. She scuttled back fearful of the danger of being burnt as she became numb to the natural element.

With that, Ginny left as the flames began to lick higher at where she was previously stood. They began to bleed across the floor as it viscosity twisted in enchanting, blinding hues.

Panic set in as the adrenaline soared. Hermione could not spend time thinking of the dead when her life was at imminent risk. She shot up, ran straight to her bed. As her hand dived underneath the pillow, her hand bounced around searching for the letter. After several pats her fingers found it, ripping it out from under the material.

She ran to the door. Dashing past the fire she almost fell over. Hermione began to bang forcefully onto the door, hoping for someone to hear her.

She could feel the heat of the fire and smoke had begun to encase the room in its black smog. Hermione didn't dare turn to look begin her as the room developed into a furnace.

'**Help! Help me! PLEASE! SOMEONE! HELP!'**

It was no use. With every yell she would inhale monstrous volumes of smoke. She was engulfed by never ending cough, as she forced her hand over her mouth. Her fists collided furiously with the door as she fumbled for the handle.

The metal scorched her, pushing and pulling with all her might it remained firmly locked. She could not avoid the impulse and looked over her shoulder. The smoke was everywhere making the visibility near impossible. She witnessing the blazing fire slither its way across her shelving.

Throwing herself at the door, she contemplated apparating but dismissed it instantly knowing that there was an equal if not a greater chance of her dying from energy consumption.

As her screams continued the smoke filled her lungs, burning away at her internal flesh. Growing dizzier by the minute, Hermione slid to the floor, her energy dwindling. The banging grew slower and weaker and the screaming was replaced by harsh coughs.

She felt as though she was being suffocated, smothered by an unseen enemy. The inebriation grew as Hermione felt completely helpless as the heat circled around her. Trapping her into its burning chasm.

""

_Hermione lay on her bed watching the birds fly around in the autumn sky. It was a clear and bright day, yet the tranquil scenery could not deter the worry she felt for Ron._

_It was not often Hermione would choose to stay at the cabin rather than be out on patrol. However when she awoke that morning she most certainly didn't feel like taking any more lives today. She could not help but think glumly that at least she was not on the receiving end of the curse. _

_Hermione prayed silently to herself that someday that trait within her would expire and no longer would she be banishing more souls into hell. Thankfully though, she felt assured that her conscious was clear and she knew what she was doing was right. Unfortunately, it didn't make it any easier. _

_Rolling over, Hermione stared blankly at the wooden wall, hopeful that Ron would come back in one piece. Another injury would be highly damaging for the groups morale._

_Although recently, it seemed that it was always the case._

_Things had become difficult recently as the past three months of being housed with so many people had started to take its toll._

_Everyone had become understandably very short tempered with one another, especially the Weasley's._

_Ron had taken on the role of Harry, making plans and researching patterns all in order to catch the Death Eaters. They would find them and eliminate them, making sure that not one escaped. He had developed a high skill for ambushing as well as the reduction of causalities. She admired the strength and modesty he led with but could not help but feel resentful that the cause had stolen their chances of making a proper relationship._

_It seemed petty to think than in the midst of it, she could only concentrate on Ron and herself and ensuring she could steal every moment she could in order to be at his side._

_That was until this morning. _

_It wasn't solely the matter of killing that prevented her from doing her duty. It was an unusual feeling one that she had not felt before but she was sure the day would hold promise and anticipation. _

_Stretching herself out, Hermione thought it was best to prepare for the day. Climbing out of bed she hoisted on her jeans and threw over plain purple jumper. She arranged her hair, not expecting it to sit perfectly and she grabbed her wand to proceed through the door._

_She was instantly greeted by Luna who had conjured some stag antlers onto her head in spirit of Harry's awakening. _

_'Why hello there Hermione. I expect Ron will be back soon.'_

_Hermione smiled to Luna's dreamy tone and as she was about to reply, Ron burst through the door with Romilda and Dean straggling exhaustingly behind him. _

_Ron instantly made headway for Hermione embracing her tightly and loving in his arms. She sunk into his chest, relishing his warmth as his unforgettable scent made her drunk with need. _

_He pulled away from her, holding her by the arms._

_'I need to speak with you.'_

_She nodded dumbly as Ron grabbed her hand leading her back into her room and closing the door firmly behind them._

_'We ran into another patrol. One of them was still alive. Barely.'_

_Hermione sat down on her bed, gripping at the edges with her fingertips. Her stomach had begun to sink at the thought of Ron's next words. It's not like there was ever any good news anymore._

_'They're closing in on the north east.'_

_As Hermione's heart skipped a beat, what Ron said made it seem all the more real that their days were numbered. Hanging her head in admission, a large sigh heaved from her lungs. Ron came to sit next to her as he took her hand in his. _

_'How is Harry?' Ron questioned with concern, as it was easy to see in his tired eyes. It had been so long since he had been comatosed, it was not the first thought on her mind every morning. Hermione replied indifferently as she ran her hand through her hair. 'I haven't checked on him this morning. I haven't been up long.'_

_Ron nodded, appearing to not be disappointed by Hermione's response. She leant in closer to him, resting her spare hand on the top of his leg. It was still possible to smile towards him, yet she could not hide the lack of hope in her eyes. A part of her felt as though it was all pointless, that they were just being picked off until no one else stood. Another part of her meanwhile, felt selfish at the thought when she knew that she had to be strong – if not for herself, then for everyone else. _

_Yet this was Ron, the person whom she loved most dearly, the one who she could trust._

_'I'm scared, Ron.' He pulled her close to him once again as he placed an arm around her shoulders. She nestled into him, wondering if this was the last chance they could be together._

_If it was true that Voldemort's forces were closing in, then who knew way lay around the corner for them? They had already lost so many…_

_She peered up to him, cherishing everything about him. He lowered his eyes to hers and she could not resist the temptation of his soft smile. _

_ Placing a tender kiss upon his lips, she fell further into him. Hermione pulled him closer – seeking more. Her hands had found her way to his jacket, sliding it off of his shoulders and down his arms. He too began to remove her garments as Ron blundered at the bottom of her woollen top, pulling it off of her clumsily. _

_Hermione fell backwards, pulling Ron with her, until her body was placed fully of the bed. He lay on top of her, pushing his weight into her as they drowned further into their kiss. _

_She woke up next to Ron a few hours later, only to see Ginny bursting through the door._

_Hermione's head was blurred with tiredness but she felt that it was the best sleep she had in a long time. _

_She shot up in bed, making sure the sheet was securely around her chest as Ginny glared at her with awkwardness plastered across her face, her eyes traveled between Hermione and Ron._

_Yet as she looked her, Hermione could see an almost cheerful about Ginny's face._

_'What is it?' She questioned, hoping that they were not under some kind of attack._

_'Harry! He's awake!'_

_""_


	14. Floating in Her Own Purgatory

**Another note: There appears to be some confusion regarding my story category - so I would like to clear things up. ****I have been asked twice now why my story is 'under' HHr and where there isn't any. ****Although originally my character list for this story on fanfiction was Hermione and Ginny, as I added more characters it changed itself to Hermione and Harry. Now, this is where it gets interesting. **

**These are the characters in the story. If there was slash or pairings in would have been put in the summary. The only pairing there is, is Drinny and if you've read to this point you are more than aware . I apologize for the confusion but as I said, under characters Hermione and Harry are only that. Characters in the story. **

**Sorry for the misunderstanding! Happy readings guys :D xxx**

Chapter Fourteen

_Floating in Her Own Purgatory_

* * *

_""_

_Ginny had rushed back to Harry's side and Hermione frantically pulled her clothing back on. She was out the door before Ron had even realised what happened, running to join Ginny, fully aware that her jumper had been put on inside out._

_Her mind was numb as it was impossible to think that Harry had finally awoken and she had never truly prepared herself for this day. _

_Bursting through the door, Hermione stopped as soon as she saw him. Although Harry was barely moving and still lying flat on the bed, she could see his face beginning to stir. Ginny had crouched down beside him eagerly, with utter delight on her face._

_As Hermione looked on at the two of them, her heart swelled at the miracle. Something inside of her knew it was not wise to get her hopes up so quickly, after all Harry was far from recovered and who knew if there was any strength left in him to heal fully._

_Yet the tears of happiness began to build as finally their prayers had been answered._

_Ron had followed in her behind shortly after, with a lot more organisation to his clothing than Hermione. She looked over her shoulder towards him, placing her hand over her mouth in an attempt to not lose control._

_What was in her eyes lay in Ron's to and they knew they had finally got Harry back._

_Although Ron had closed the door behind him, a buzzing of whispers could have easily been heard as commotion had built up around everyone else. They had clearly seen all three of them rushing into Harry's room. It wouldn't take long to figure out what was going on._

_Both Hermione and Ron hurried to Ginny's side and the eldest of the two girls also couched down beside the bed. She looked to Ginny - whom too had become welled with tears – and took a hold of her pale hand. Gripping it tightly, the redhead smiled towards her as they silently treasured the moment of jubilation._

_Harry's eyelids had started to flutter as Ron bent down placing his hand around Hermione's arm._

_'C'mon, you don't wanna overdo it. Let'm breath.'_

_Allowing Ron to hoist her up, Ginny followed suit and they all took a step back as Harry's consciousness was slowly beginning to return. He began to move his head more, motioning his mouth attempting to speak. _

_Hermione's heart jumped at the sight, as everything became less and less surreal. Harry was covered in bandages all across his body and several wounds lay protected by a layer of multiple pastes and gloops in order to heal specific wounds. No matter how much disrepair he looked in, the sight of seeing his face come alive inspired all the hope that had been lost._

_Finally, there was a chance now to finish this for good._

_As her tears continued to moisten her face, she could just about see the shine of green that was reveal as Harry opened his eyes. _

_A small shriek was emitted from Ginny as they all stood in silence, patiently waiting for the resurrection of their messiah. _

_Suddenly a sense shame began to fill Hermione as her mind had finally started working again at its usual pace. No matter how wonderful this moment was, __**they**__ were the ones who would have to tell him that they had failed, that everyone was dead and how Voldemort had taken their home. _

_They crying she had been adamant to supress, burst free as the eruption of emotions had begun. Attempting to calm herself, it became more difficult that she imagined as her breathing had changed drastically into uneven bouts of gasping. In her mind all she could think of was words of apologies the echoed over and over again. What else could she say to him? It felt like she was the one to let him fall._

_Although her heart was full of dread, she caught sight of Ron whose entire colour had drained from his face._

_He stared on in amazement as his whole composure had adjusted. No long did he look like he was carrying the weight of thousands on top of his shoulders, he almost started to relaxed. _

_Harry looked around the room, gazing at each and every one of them. His face was still but his eyes betrayed the confusion his obviously felt. Hermione could not blame him - he had been unconscious for nearly three months. _

_A brittle cough spluttered from his lips as he attempted to speak. Hermione strained her ears - trying to decipher his rasped breaths into the one word he seemed resolute on saying. _

_Wiping her eyes with the back of the hands, she paced her breathing and stepped closer towards the bed. Harry looked up to her, wincing his eyes to the pain he was still in._

_'W…W…' Harry coughed again, screwing his eyes with each exhalation. 'Wat… Water.'_

_In unison both Hermione and Ginny took hold of their wands. However Hermione was the first to conjure a goblet of water. She handed it towards him as he attempted to move the rest of his body. _

_Within an instant, Ron was at their side, throwing his arms under Harry's. _

_'Nice to see you're still with us, mate.'_

_Hermione could not help but smile towards Ron's attitude as he heaved Harry up. Both Ron and Hermione began to grab the pillows, fitting them around Harry, making sure he was perfectly comfortable. _

_Pulling away, she placed the goblet into Harry's hands as he held it to his mouth in earnest. Gulping it down quickly, he handed out the goblet to Ron as he wiped the water from the top of his lip. _

_As he did so, his bare eyes locked on to him arm, taking noticing of the vast treatment he had appeared to have been given. Shock began to twist on his face as Hermione could not stay silent any longer._

_'Harry… It's not as bad it looks, honestly.' Her brows furrowed in concern as Harry did not move his glance. 'A lot of it is Muggle medicine, just simply iodine and bandaging to keep them clean. I wouldn't touch the sticky stuff either if I was you. It's there for the more server injuries. I mean it's not severe now but a lot of the treatment couldn't have been given until you were conscious.'_

_'I'm so sorry Harry. I wish you didn't have to wake up to this. I tried to do more Harry, I really did. But it was just - '_

_'Please. Hermione. Stop.'_

_Harry cut her off instantly and she did so meekly. Hermione could have stood there all day, explaining and describing each individual remedy followed by numerous apologies. She knew it would be far easier to say that than what Harry would want to hear. _

_Bashfully she looked towards Ron for some support, who only crinkled his mouth and refilled the goblet he held. Passing it to Harry, he drunk it as easily as the last allowing a long sigh of satisfaction to ease from him afterwards. Giving it back to Ron, he placed it on the side pushing his hands into his pockets. _

_Hermione was rendered speechless as she could sense the question that was about to be asked. She looked down at her feet in preparation of the unwanted exchanged. She tried to tell herself that he had a right to know, no matter how difficult it was to say. How could he help or lead if he had no inclination of what had happened since the battle?_

_'Ron… What happened?'_

_She could feel the tension in Ron but Hermione did not dare move her eyes. She stood there, perfectly still, waiting for words to be spoken._

_'It's all gone, mate'_

_At Ron's speech Hermione collapsed into hysterical tears once again. Throwing her hands over her face she cried into them, barely able to say anything of reason._

_'I'm so sorry Harry! We tried! We had to get away, we didn't stand a chance! We didn't know what to do…'_

_She pulled the purple cuffs over her fists, attempting to mop up the vast amount of sorrowful drops that ran down her cheeks. Hermione's glazed amber eyes looked onto Harry, ashamed of the news they brought. Yet he seemed to dismiss it, looking around the room._

_His eyes found Ginny who had taken to the corner, spectating all that had happened thus far. Harry smiled towards her warmly, slowly holding his hand out for her. _

_Every movement he made seem to require a great deal of willpower and his face scrunched to every throb. Hermione's heart broke at the amount of excruciating agony he must have endured. _

_The copper haired girl took the invitation, masking her face with resilience. Hermione had always been jealous of Ginny's courage and energy. It was times like this her stoutness was most appreciated. As Ginny took Harry's hand, he pulled her into him – warping her arms tightly around her waist and resting his head onto her stomach. _

_Ginny held him close, as Hermione struggle to regain her composure. She could not waste the little time they possibly had crying, when tactics had to be made and a war needing to be won. _

_Looking on at the embracing couple, Hermione sniffed away her last tears, patting her face in order to recapture some alertness. _

_Harry let his grip drop from Ginny as she planted a kiss on top of his head and stepped away smiling towards her love. He slanted his mouth at her, breathing deeply he focused his attention back onto Ron._

_'What happened?'_

_He asked the same question, yet more firmly than before. Hermione knew he wanted detail and knew Ron was the only one capable of speaking of the horrors they had faced. Ron sighed with exasperation as the truth had to be told sooner or later._

_'You saw the worst of it.' Ron said and uncertainly lay in his voice. However Hermione could see him pacing him, ready to continue. 'You went to woods when you-know-who called. Both armies were down to under a hundred. When you were there we attempted to stronghold the castle… That's when he brought you back…'_

_Harry focused his eyes elsewhere as he looked as though he was trying to recollect the no doubt fragmented memories. He did not look at Ron, but gave no suggestion for him to stop._

_'They all just cursed at hexed at you. It was evil… Everyone just froze.'_

_A heavily atmosphere fell over them as the trauma of that day, was being relived by all that were present. _

_'Luckily though me, Ginny, Fred and George had backup. In case it all went to shit.' Ron chewed on his lip as his voice broke over Fred's name. Unfortunately he was not the only Weasley to perish that day. _

_'That's why we're 'ere. We couldn't just let 'em win, mate… But we've been doing well 'ere. We've been picking off the Death Eater patrols, tracking 'em down, trying to stay hidden.'_

_Harry looked at him in utter disbelief._

_'How… How long as have I been out for?'_

_Ron looked wide eyed at Hermione, not sure of the best course of action. She felt the need to step in and her voice shattered the recurring silence. 'You've been unconscious for three months Harry.' Looking towards him sympathetically, he closed his eyes in patience as she wondered of his reaction._

_She did not have to wait long however, as Harry began to reply. 'So we're hiding….'_

_'In a fucking hut, while the he's out there! We're not meant to be fucking hiding! We should be trying to kill him!'_

_The rage was evident as Hermione recoiled to his outburst. He was understandable angry and Harry was never one who liked being left in the dark. As she allowed his words to ring in the air, whispers and scurrying could have been heard outside the room. Harry had obviously noticed it to as he spoke more calmly than before._

_'Who else is here?'_

_Hermione was afraid to answer, so Ron instead chose to speak._

_'George, Luna, Cho, Dean, Neville, Seamus and Romilda Vane.' Harry nodded as Ron added, 'Susan, Parvati and Ernie were here as well. They got snatched within the first two weeks.'_

_Harry shook his head, adjusting himself slightly on the bed. 'And that's all that's left?'_

_Hermione had turned around muffling her pitiful sobs. Ron murmured a 'yes' as the stillness of the air descended upon them once again. _

_Harry just sat there, pondering all that had been said. Poising herself Hermione turned to face her friends. It was reasonable that the details of events would not have gone down well and obviousness of his anger was clear to all._

_They all look upon him with concerned heavy eyes as Ron shifted his footing. _

_'There's something else, mate…'_

_Harry peered onto him as the muscles in his jaw tightened._

_'You-know-who… He's taken over Hogwarts.'_

_The dark haired boy nearly spontaneously combusted in the place he sat. In a second a fiery apoplexy boomed around the room as Harry began yelling his fury. _

_The images faded as a blinding light swirled into view. Two shadows danced above her, one very tall and slender the other was incredibly smaller. _

_""_

As Hermione opened her eyes, everything she saw was an unrecognisable sluice of twisting images.

The smaller of the two shapes disappeared from view as a voice vibrated around her.

'Hurry!... think… much time… injured... fuck sake!... you.. elf!'

It caused and ghost of an itch, shaking the shell of her ear. Everything felt completely out of control… Who were these people? What was this place?

Hermione attempting desperately to fight off the weakness but only found herself numb and incapacitated by her mental commands. She looked at the disorientated motion of herself, she appeared to be lying down, yet she could not move one single muscle.

Confounded by what lay around her, Hermione rolled her head in a flustered attempting to blink away the madness.

She tried to mumble away the situation but nothing came of her futile reckonings. A bright light appeared, sheathing her it magnificent radiating beam. It danced above her, slipping away from view only to return again. She felt like her skin was bubbling, stretching against itself only to fold back and heal again.

Nothing was what she knew and somehow it dawned upon her that she didn't really know anything besides her own name.

All she felt was that she had to leave. She had to escape. The very thought surged through her, infected everything about her. She needed to move, she **had** to. There was no other way. Forcing herself to do something, she remained completely still.

Her mind was slipping with thoughts racing. _Come on, please, just move! _No matter how many times Hermione thought this, her body would not obey.

Completely desperate, her brain began to overload. She felt as though she was being pulled back by the clutches of darkness towards to void of hell. Resisting, the claws only tightened its determination to drown her in insanity.

Nothing was her own. Her body was trapped and her mind stolen. Every element of what defined a human had all been taken from Hermione. As the veil drew ever closer, she could not help but welcome its ferocity.

The intensity of the delirium swam in her veins, cleansing her vision.

The freedom of herself returned as she felt her back arched in greeting. A shattering tingle replaced the numbness she felt, as her eyes had begun to roll in their sockets.

Jerking her legs, her arms soon followed making their own fractured alterations. A tall blonde wizard loomed over her, still tracing the light over her body. Although some sense had returned, she could not exert herself in anyway. She could not sit up, nor could she move into any particular position.

'Relax, Hermione.'

The voice registered somewhere in her mind, but she barely heard the words. As the light swirled over her, it dimmed away leaving only shadows in its wake.

The pointed face leaned into her eye line as Hermione began twisting her head in disbelief. This wizard only seemed a threat, as well as everything that lay around her. She could feel her sense of mortality and knew it would not be long before that it was too, taken from her.

He appeared to be looking at her, yet his eyes did not rest on the one place. He scanned her meticulously, occasionally pressing the tips of his fingers into her supple skin.

Hermione flapped her arms pathetically, attempting to bat away his touch.

'Go… Away…'

Her voice was weak but she was sure of her words. Whatever the reason, she did want the persistent feel of a possible assailant against any part of her.

Nothing was connected, as everything seemed to mutate in the parallels of existence.

Everything around her lacked all pulse, all the other beings only seemed as two faint apparitions from a distance dream. Nothing held the vitality of life or any emotional colouring. Hermione was completely disentwined from herself, floating in her own purgatory.

The complexities of nothing puzzled her mind further. She could only feel the unreality but whether it was her or everything around that was so unreal, she could not tell.

So she just lay there, allowing the time to pass for those who still regarded it.

'Verrill, pass me the Furora!'

'Yes, master sir!'

The puerile and deep voice contrasted in the atmosphere. The wizard grabbed a fuchsia bottle, given to him by the small creature.

'Hermione,' he came closer to her, pulling out the silver stopper and allowing the potions fumes to glisten in the dark air. 'This might sting, just keep your eyes open.'

With that he leant over her, pouring the liquid into each of her amber eyes. A salve formed over them, cutting Hermione's vision to a lens of bright pink. She could feel it trickling behind her eyes, leaking into her brain. The alarming hues faded as it submerged her inside vessels.

Blinking away the slimy texture, she felt revived as her disassociation lifted. She felt herself slipping back into her body and reattach, springing life back into her. As it did so, it propelled her forwards causing her to sit up in quick succession.

Her head darted around, locking onto everything around her. Her eyes felt bright as she saw all the details that haunted the black void around her. The pointed face of Draco Malfoy focused into view as he put it cold palm onto her chest, pushing her gentle back down.

She fought against his touch as the panic elevated and the shock hit her like a full forced tidal wave. The bright orange glow captivated her as the memory of the fire returned.

Not knowing what to do she turned and screamed on the bed, thrashing her body menacingly. The hand travelled from her chest to her arms as she became pinned by Draco's strength.

'Calm down, Hermione! I'm not going to hurt you.'

Yet the words through gritted teeth only enhanced the anxiety within Hermione. Struggling under his might, she continued to twist with all the power she could. However it made no difference to the situation and only increased Draco's attempts on restraining the girl.

Hermione's agitation slowly fell and was soon replaced by the all familiar despair.

She quite simply gave up. Everything she could do was completely useless against all she was sentenced to. Her mind could not think in one direction and she could not help but think what a waste of a life she had become.

Tears sprung to her eyes as she fell into sorrowful sobs. Draco removed his hands, waving them towards Verrill is dismissal. The elf obeyed without hesitation and disapparated, causing Malfoy's attention to focus back onto Hermione.

The moisture streaked her face as she rolled onto her front, in desperate wish to ignore the world. All that was left was danger, suffering and death. How could she fool herself otherwise? Even if they did win the war, how could that justify the rest of their existence? When the world would finally lay down its arms, she knew deep down that there would still be nothing left of her to save.

'I can't take this anymore!' She screamed, leaping off of the bed. 'Go away Draco! Leave me alone!'

His shadowed face stared at her with narrowed eyes. She could not trust anything from him, not from anyone.

She stood there in her emotional shamble, wiping each tear that spilt with a rough fist.

'Hermione… Listen to me. You're safe here.' He stepped towards her, holding his hand out towards her in reassurance.

'Liar!' She spat, ferociously. 'You're a **liar**! Why should I b…believe **anything** you say!'

Her words broke past her uneven breaths of sadness.

Draco took yet another step towards her, still with his hand out and palm upwards. He did not remove his artic eyes from hers as the gleam of silver flashed across them.

'Hermione, look at me.'

Pulling her hair from her face, she dared to look at him through her watery gaze.

'You are here to help win this. You are here so we can find Potter and end this.'

A new wave of emotion jolted through her as every word he said punctured into her heart. She really wasn't sure of anything.

'I just… I don't, remember… anything'

Her voice was pitiful as she peered at Draco with her misty amber eyes.

Her lips parted in promise of speech as her body took a peaceful transgression of calm.

'When will all of this stop?'

Her face dropped at her own patheticness as she continued to look towards Draco. Many times she had search the faces of friends to seek answers her mind so desperately needed to know in order to hold on to whatever sanity was left. Of those times, nobody could provide her with the truth or answers she had to have and only a hopeless slanted look of awkwardness.

Yet painted clearly on Draco's face was not something of uncomfortableness, not even that of judgment. Hermione felt as though she was seeing him for the first time and as is she had seen him clearly. He was not a Death Eater here to harm her or a minion of the Dark Lord to lure her. He was just a boy, the same as she was just a girl.

They were nothing apart from lost in this word of terror and evil. As she sank further into his glare she could see the suffering he too had been submitted to. He was not evil and she was convinced just for a moment that she saw the innocence of his soul.

He came closer until his chest was inches away from her face. Staring into his black attire, she could only the feel the warmth he had to offer. It had been so long since she had been held, since someone could offer her true reassurance.

Inhaling his scent, she allowed him to edge every closer until he placed both his arms tightly around her, drawing her into his embrace of safety.

She stood there clinging to him, letting him stroke her hair softly. She did not want to move but the tinge of betrayal began to simmer. Not on Draco's behalf however but towards herself. It was easy to feel ashamed, like she doing something terrible towards Ron. Especially with whose arms she was in.

Yet she could not help but feel a trust develop between the two as she wrapped her fingers around his arm, resting her chin just below his shoulder.

Rocking Hermione slowly him arms - she sniffed deeply, executing the last of her tears.

'What **do **you remember?'

She snuck a glance up at him, pulling away from his grip. Riveting his poise, Hermione tried to find the answer for the question but there was only one sure thing.

'The last thing I remember was the fire.'

Draco pursed his lips at her response a she polity wriggled from his grip. There was only so much time she could spend in his cradle.

'Do you remember what caused it?'

He angled his head at her, a blank expression dancing upon his face. Turning away from him, Hermione retreated back towards the bed, sitting herself down – frail from her hysterics.

She rubbed her forehead trying to think. Her mind was full of its usual cloud making sure she did not know any accurate details.

'No.'

No matter how hard she would strain her mind, she knew its pattern far too well. Sometimes it was better to just not try.

A loud crack echoed through the room. Assuming it was Verrill she did not need to turn her head.

That was until the long waving russet locks fell into Hermione's peripherals. She turned her head sharply to the new arrival as Ginny stood there as perfect as ever.

Something triggered within her mind, the suffocating ashy smelly of smoke as well as the blinding light of a hypnotic fire.

Hermione did not wish to exchange with her friend in such times as the bitterness of their last encounter reoccurred in her mind. Yet she had no choice but to forgive Ginny. With everything she had been through, how could Hermione hold what she had said against her?

Draco had turned to the stationed girl also, placing himself between the two witches.

'You were not called for.' He stated simply barely gracing the redhead's presence.

'I have come to see if Hermione is well. I was told there was an accident.'

The brunette stared on at the two, watching the battle of wills that was fought between their expressions. Whatever it was that was happening between the two was most certainly not beneficial.

Ginny snatched her gaze back, altering her concentration onto Hermione who was still sat on the bed.

'Well, Hermione, I hope all is well. I see Master Malfoy's potions have prevailed once again. I must say, whatever happened to you, you look in impeccable shape.'

A relief washed over Hermione to Ginny's words as she knew their last confrontation seemed to fade into the past. She smiled up to her meekly and Ginny creased the corners of her mouth ever so slightly.

'Well I'm going to retire for the night. Please, excuse me.'

She parted into a cloud of smoke, removing herself completely from the room.

Draco allowed a long low sigh to leave him, no doubt in satisfaction that Ginny had finally left. After all the atmosphere was exceedingly tense to say the very least. Shaking his head slightly he turned back to Hermione, regaining his composure.

'You will be fully recovered by tomorrow. The invitation for dinner still holds if you are interested.'

Hermione had no words to say and once again she was completely overwhelmed by all that had happened in a short space of time. She nodded along to whatever Draco had said although she was not sure whether she had heard him properly.

He crept up beside her, grabbing her arm to place it around his shoulder. Aiding her to stand, she knew she was far too unwell to apparated and she stumbled, her weight staggering into Draco.

Hermione tried her best to remain on even footing but allowed him to support her nonetheless.

'Can we walk?' She asked towards him and he nodded.

They left the room together, struggling in the darkness as they begun the long walk back to the magically entranced bath.


	15. He Needed Her to Feel Like a Queen

Chapter Fifteen

_He Needed Her to Feel Like a Queen_

* * *

The suffocating summer heat had finally begun to soften as it was replaced by the gentle autumn winds. Clouds carelessly drifted through the sky, tracing the delicate feathery wisps across the cool blue.

Though the trees still remained their brilliant green and the birds continued with their summer song, the air had most certainly started to turn. Although Draco sat inside, he could easily imagine the soothing chilled wind against his skin.

Sipping from his goblet, he cherished this rare opportunity of tranquillity and the chance to finally collect one's thoughts.

He was easily entranced by the spectacular views his mansion held. The drawing room in particular had the most impressive of all, which was not at all surprising considering his father had designed the house around this room.

At times is still felt although the ghost of his father lingered in the study, watching Draco with a vigilant eye. It always created a slight unease within the room - however Draco merely took a larger gulp of the smoked liquor.

The most favourite thing about the view was unlike the front of the mansion with perfectly sculpted shrubbery, the back views held a natural fascination to them. They were something that was not created by man but something that had evolved completely by itself.

As he continued to admire the forever rolling green hills of the countryside, scattered with dramatically encroached trees, it felt as though this was the first time Draco has noticed the sunshine. Every day was performed under cloak and dagger, operating only once the moon and the stars had returned to the midnight sky. His whole life had revolved around darkness.

Although the young wizard tried his utmost to clear his mind of all thoughts, the mediation he sought would not come so easily. Everything he thought would only traced back to the last conversation he had with Hermione.

Three days had passed since the event of the fire. Draco smiled knowingly of Hermione's fragile mind and her inability to remember its cause. Although she could not identify what actually started the fire and how she found it impossible to escape, Draco was sure of his suspicions.

Ginny was a very difficult creature to trust, especially with the subject of Hermione. It had been two weeks since both girls had come to the mansion - Hermione would lie in despair asking for the welfare of her younger friend. Ginny however took to the luxuries and had the spirit of unbreakable bounds.

Draco took another sip from his goblet, noticing the demise of liquid. He picked up his wand, allowing his eyesight to swirl wherever it please as his tapped the metal form, instantly refilling the firewhisky.

Rocking onto the back legs of his chair, he kicked his feet onto the enormous bay windowsill. An oddly bent tree that stood not too far away had its branches dragged into a sudden gust of wind. Settling itself, the branches flickered and a flock of crows descended upon it.

They squawked towards the mansion, discomforting Draco's nerves.

In his near drunken mind, the fire of Ginny infected his thoughts as usual. She was business and he knew better than to submit to her never ending call. His will power was strong even though his sips had turned into gulps.

He was undeniably furious with girl for disobeying his words. He ordered her to behave herself, he specifically instructed her to cause any mishaps with Hermione and he cursed himself silently for not supervising the encounter.

Of course Draco had thought of cancelling the evening's plans, following through with the threats he handed out. He knew Ginny had been highly excited by the idea of dining with himself, dressed up for an almost regal occasion. It would have no doubt pleased him to see the look of utter disappointment in her face as he destroyed the plans.

Yet this was not the time to give in to childish whims. Each action and every word had to be executed with utmost precision in order to prevail. That he was sure of.

If he allowed Ginny to flourish in her new pampered ways, yes she would become more difficult to control, yet he needed something from Ginny. He needed her to feel like a queen.

However this was not the only reason for putting a stop to this all together. It was something deeply troubling which Hermione had said in the confines of her chamber.

'_Draco… the things she said… What they did to her, what __**Yaxley **__did to her…'_

_The young wizard looked down on the tired girl as he faced began to burn in anger._

Her words replayed over to him. His fist clenched towards Yaxley's audacity. He specified that the neither of the girls were to be violated, the Death Eater himself even denied any doing. _I always knew he was nothing but a two faced bastard. _

Draco had never accepted anything second hand, nothing that had been spoilt by another. Everything he owned was his, unique, derived from the most outlandish of sources. Now he had found one of his most prized possession, one who proved to be more worthy than any other, had been tampered with.

For those who could not be trusted, something had to be done. When the time was right, Draco was sure the Death Eater's comeuppance would rise with all that he deserved.

Ever since Yaxley had stolen Bellatrix's wand on the battlefield - in hope she had perished – Draco knew he was never to be trusted. However as he thought back, the amusing memory of the Dark Lord's indifferent towards the theft sprung to his mind. Additionally, he merely instructed Bellatrix to 'find a new wand.'

Perhaps Yaxley would not have been so smug as to dare steal the wand of another, if Draco himself had not immobilised both the Dark Lord and his aunt in order for Potter and the gang to make their desperate escape.

Yet was not the time for reminiscing or even the torturous schematics he would like to plan for Yaxley. There were more practical matters at hand however, such as the dinner.

A part of him undeniably felt bad for the trauma and hideous acts Ginny had been put through. The very thought naturally revolted him, to know she had already been brutally claimed by another. Also, he thought she had been through enough. Malfoy could not help but glumly think that either way - whether he doted upon her or not - a monster would surely be created.

Draco finished his drink and brought his feet down from the windowsill, allowing the bright sunshine to burn across his shoulders as he turned around. The change of lighting distorted his eyesight slightly leaving orange and yellow polygons twinkling against the darkened room.

His eyelids fought against the intoxication as the décor seeped back to their normal positioning's.

'Verrill! Your assistance is required!' Draco shouted into the empty surroundings.

His slurred words echoed around the room, instantly followed by a cloud of magical fog fading away to reveal the one eared, veiny creature. The keen glazed eyes pleaded for instructions from his Master.

'Verrill is at your service, Master sir!'

He staggered closer towards Draco and in his appreciation of his own personal space the Death Eater took a step back, releasing himself back into his own hierarchy.

'The dinner table needs to be prepared. Check on the Mudblood as well, I want her looking her best.'

Draco tried to keep his vocal composure without an utter of mispronunciation. Verrill rubbed his hands over each knuckle waiting for further commands.

'What of Mistress Weasley sir?'

The blonde wizard grabbed the edge of his pillowed chair for support, wrapping his hands around the golden curled framed carving.

'Keep an eye on her. Not directly, however. Just… Make sure she doesn't cause anymore infernos.'

The lids of the bulging grey eyes peeled back even further revealing the heavily stressful workload of the elf.

'Of course! Master, sir… Verrill is most gracious sir…'

Draco held up his hand up, silencing the excitable elf.

'Just get it done. Don't rush them, as I said… I want **Hermione** at her best.'

As the flappy ear bobbled back into the thick mist, Draco was once again left alone in the room.

The departure of Verrill caused him to relax slightly, allowing his knees to give way to alcohol almost falling to the ground. Catching himself with his arms outstretched, he shook his head walking towards his wand.

His pale finger fumbled around the wood and swung it rather exaggeratingly in the air, causing nothing to materialise as he so wished. Again he drew the wand in front of him - this time more controlled – and a silver shallow dish substantiated before him from nowhere.

'Aguamenti.'

Clanking with the rim of the bowl, water poured freely from the wand tip, layered the basin with fresh cold water. Finishing the spell, he pulled away his wand, tucking it into his trouser pocket. Draco lost footing slightly, only to recover and slid his hands into the refreshing water.

Cupping both palms and fingers, he scooped a puddle of the clear liquid, splashing it into his face. The galvanizing droplets brought the coldness he needed, enabling the concise thought process to return, pushing away the murkiness.

As he poured another handful of water onto his skin he hoped Verrill has understood the instructions he had been given. It was absolutely paramount that Hermione was fit for such an occasion. He needed her to look healthy, revitalized and most certainly not the pathetic little girl Ginny had last seen.

The Blood Traitor needed to become controllable and Draco needed her to be his. After the discovery of Yaxley's habits and her relationship with Potter, he needed to be certain that her loyalties lied solely with him.

Draco could see no other way around her disobedience and need to create a rivalry in order for Ginny to feel the need to compete. It was necessary to ensure that not every indulgence was given in to, she need a dependency for him. Draco knew full heartedly the only way to accomplish this was to ignore Ginny and devote his attention onto Hermione.

Materialistically, the younger of the two would acquire beyond any realm of imagination, emotionally however was an entirely different story. It was easy to assume that Draco would lose nothing from this plan. It would increase the trust within Hermione, something he desperately needed sooner rather than later and to feed Ginny's new spoilt attitude.

Jealousy would defiantly work in his favour.

As the time drew on and his mind sobered, he vanquished the basin and steam cleaned his clothing with his Hawthorn. It left his skin warm under his garments as he began to fix his hair, allowing the last drop of water to descend from his face.

Straightening his collar, Draco breathed deeply casting his gaze back towards the window. It would not before long before the sun would begin to set.

He clicked his fingers together, waiting for the elf to appear. As Verrill apparated into the room, Draco did not divert his eyes.

'Are both the girls ready?'

Verrill began to bounce where he stood sending the flap of his ear into equal rapid movements.

'Yes Master! Sir must know Verrill did the table just as Master asked!'

He beamed his crooked smile up to the wizard as Draco waved his hand in dismissal with an utter of 'very well.' The elf removed himself from the room, as Malfoy made the final adjustments to his appearance.

He closed his eyes, forcing himself through the compression of time as his feet hit solidly on the dining room floor. Draco opened he eyes to the family table which had not been used for dinner since three years ago.

Each fork, plate and serviette was placed at the perfect angles and each stood strong in its own place. The sun had sneaked behind the many forms of foliage and the shadows stretched across the floor, climbing up the walls. Draco could not help but smile to himself in complete anticipating for how the evening's events would unravel.


	16. Discovering Something Old

Chapter Sixteen

_Discovering Something Old_

* * *

Hermione sat on her bed, staring at what felt like the hundredth time at the infuriating scribed parchment. Over and over the blocked capitals just merged together only to appear as lined out squares that meant nothing. Her amber eyes grew heavier as her mouth parted in a wide, obnoxious yawn.

Both her temples pulsed at the side of her head in unison and the letter she held, could be deciphered no more. The blinding headache continued to surge throughout her brain, causing a great deal of distress. Dropping the parchment, Hermione grabbed the sides of her head, praying for the pain to leave.

She tried to think of all that she had discovered so far, yet even that seemed a difficult feet for her mind to function at. Retiring the letter, she saw no other way as she allowed her head to collapse onto the pillow behind her.

She knew that every time her eyes would close and she gave permission for herself to sink into her dreams, the past would only be there to haunt her. Hermione could not refuse herself any longer, yet she could not help but think that ironically, she would awake far more exhausted than if she had never slept.

As her eyelids fell over her wearing eyes, Hermione felt the pull of sleep and she succumbed to the darkening flickers of the now precedent life.

_""_

_Hermione had been drawn to the map that sprawled itself across the table. The red crosses of success spread virally across the map, bringing a small ounce of hope to her soul. This would be Harry's first meeting since awaking and everything had to be dealt with gently._

_Unfortunately, Harry's vivication had not brought the high spirits it was expected to. If anything the strain had been increased by tenfold and that was just regarding the matter of keeping the peace between him and Ron._

_Harry had been extremely short tempered ever since he awoke. Of course anyone that had been tortured and unconscious for months would be in an unexplainable sense of turmoil. _

_Hermione could hear the bustle of all, of everyone making their way to the meeting room. She had prepared everything as usual, books, maps, intel… anything that could provide some evidence or inclination that they could win this war. _

_Cho and Luna were the first to enter the room, followed by Neville, George and Seamus. The two girls as usual headed straight for the seats, while the boys propped themselves up against the walls. Ginny, Ron, Dean and Romilda soon succeeded after them, leaving Hermione questioning Harry's whereabouts. _

_He had not yet fully integrated back into the group. Every time Hermione would try to reassure him, to somehow help him feel as though nothing had changed. Unfortunately, that could not be further from the truth. _

_She could not help but feel that in somehow he blamed her for all of their failures. She was the one with all the answer's how could she not have foreseen this? Or perhaps it was her own guilt transpiring. _

_Shaking the thoughts from her head, Harry appeared with his glum composition as usual. Everybody had entered and Ron, Ginny and Harry all took to Hermione's side. _

_It felt like all too often, she was the one announcing plans, the only one capable of holding the tranquillity. The speeches never became any easier, even if the news was somewhat less damaging than before. However the only idea she had mustered would only cause more apprehension._

_'Erm… I think it will be best to start with what we already know.' She paused, looking around at the weakened faces. 'We've taken down multiple patrols, intercepted messages and even captured a Death Eater for information. We've no doubt caused a dent in You-Know-Who's army. Yet somehow we're not any closer to knowing how to win this than we were before.'_

_Hermione sighed heavily, casting her eyes to the map, too ashamed to look at any of her peers. _

_'However, we know that all of the Horcrux's have been destroyed. It's only him left…' Her voice weakened as her gaze drifting subconsciously towards Harry. She could only acknowledge the tension that had built between her three friends. It saddened her to think that they had lost seven years of friendship and trust because of a monster the truly did belong in hell._

_'If we keep pushing through the patrols, hunting them down, holding on to whatever it is that has kept us going… There might be a way to penetrate the school.'_

_She felt every single individual seize up in a dramatic contraction. Hermione knew no one would take the idea well but sooner or later the fight had to been taken to Lord Voldemort._

_'Such a plan would take great risk and I'm not even sure how we would do it. But once in there we can recruit survivors, slaves anyone willing to turn against them…'_

_'The castle will be covered in guards.' _

_The voice of the now eldest Weasley broke Hermione's speech. _

_'Well it's just an idea, but either way… this has to end at some point.'_

_She lay silently, waiting for a response from anyone. From her peripherals she could see Ron unfolding his arms and his freckled face leaning forward._

_'I agree with Hermione,' he said, easing the atmosphere in the room._

_She gave him a weak smile, her heart relived at his words. At least __**he**__ agreed with her. _

_Harry however only seemed to retract his body language to the compliance. It was easy to see him already disagreeing and Hermione prepared for his opinion._

_'We're wasting time picking them off! Everyday we're growing weaker Hermione, while You-Know-Who just expands his army! We can't afford to hold out much longer.'_

_Sadly, she saw sense in view but ultimately, she was holding onto a miracle. She knew they needed to wait and rushing to save the day would only end in more disaster._

_Harry turned to his redheaded friend, forcing his back to the rest of the group. However Ron spoke his mind as usual. _

_'If we go in now, we'll only be giving __**him **__an advantage. The more we take out 'ere, the easier it will be to get into the castle.'_

_It was evident that Harry had taken offence to Ron's words as his bare green eyes sparkled with fury. _

_'How can you say that Ron! We're hiding away like fucking animals just waiting to get killed! If we have __**any **__chance of winning this, we need to take the fight to him, now!'_

_His voice boomed against the wooden walls as everybody recoiled their head's in worry. Every second felt like Hermione was treading on eggshells around Harry and in fact, it was not just her. All were very aware of the uncomfortableness his anger frequently brought._

_'And I suppose, everyone agrees with them?'_

_His tone of annoyance filled Hermione's ears as her heart took a pang of sorrow. She always hated fighting with her friends._

_Nobody said anything however as Harry searched everyone's face for support. Throwing his arms at his side, his stormed from the room slamming the door abruptly behind him. Her mouth fell open, shocked at the display she had just seen. Turning to Ron, he raised his eyebrows as he too, followed Harry from the room. _

_'Okay… Well... Erm… I suppose we'll discuss this later on…' _

_Her face fell into an expression of anxiety and everybody left the room. She knew no doubt that both Harry and Ron had escaped to the back room for a private discussion, yet she could not help but feel that she had to hear their conversation. _

_As Ginny was last one to leave, Hermione slyly crept behind her, darting to the left and behind a large vertical beam. Sneaking up against the door, she scanned around to make sure everyone had continued with their own business. No one was in sight as she focused her senses onto the two wizard's exchange. _

_'We can't just march into the castle and hold him at wandpoint!' She heard Ron shouting in what seemed like an effort of him trying to keep calm._

_Harry flustered his arms in dismissal, screwing up his face in frustration._

_'There isn't enough time to fuck about chasing down Death Eater's! You can't be a coward and try to lead!'_

_Hermione took in a sharp breath as silence fell upon the two friends. She felt disappointment that Harry could treat them this way. _

_'Don't start on tha' one mate. Last I saw, you didn't do us any favours.' Through the crack of the door, Hermione saw Ron shaking his head, more than likely in disbelief for he what just said. Quickly, she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, careful to not be spotted._

_'I don't know why you're so against this Harry.' Ron's nose creased in question as Hermione tried to focus her ears, instead of surveying with her eyes._

_'You have no idea what any of this has been like! I was knocked out for months, lying around doing nothing! I was beaten and humiliated in front of everyone! I was dead Ron!'_

_The redhead shrugged his shoulders, almost laughing. 'Don't pull that one. Don't forget who's being keeping everyone alive, who's actually being making sure we took some kind of action. You're the one who has no idea. Things aren't what they were three months ago.'_

_Harry turned his back again, telling Ron he was 'pathetic,' before he said 'I have something I need to do.'_

_She saw Harry march towards the door, causing her to leap suddenly around the corner. He walked right past her, too consumed in his own anger to notice her. _

_After he was out of sight, she ducked into the room, facing Ron's sullen disposition. _

_'Are you okay, Ron?' His freckled face looked up, grumbling to Hermione's question. She was confused to his displeasured towards her. However he was never known for his temper either. _

_Ruffling his hand through his bright hair, he nodded, exhaling forcefully._

_'I'm sorry, Harry just pissed me off.'_

_The corners of her lips turned in comfort and she touch Ron's arm in understanding. _

_'We knew this was going to be hard for him… It's not going to help anything if we're all fighting with each other. We just have to be patient that's all.' Ron snorted indignantly, however Hermione merely ignored him, continuing the conversation. 'Where do you think he keeps disappearing to?'_

_Looking towards her love, he only held the same misgivings she did. Hermione knew she was not the only one deeply concerned for Harry's mental wellbeing. However Ron was far more adept at brushing things off._

_'I wouldn't worry, Hermione. He probably just sods off for a walk to calm down.'_

_She tried to believe him and her expression seemed to emit the false reaction as Ron's face brightened. _

_'I need you to do somethin'…'_

_Hermione paused, eager for the request. However a faint niggle of foreboding twitched at the back of her mind. Ron lowered his voice, closing in towards Hermione. 'I need you to lead a patrol team. I trust your judgement, assemble who you think is the strongest.'_

_She did not know how to take the proposition. She had never lead on such a scale, not at least without either Ron or Harry to support her. Yet there had to be a reason why Ron would ask such a thing of her. It could only mean one thing._

_'Are they getting closer?'_

_Hermione's voice was loud and more high pitched than she expected as the shrill exclamation rang into the surroundings. Automatically the colour rose to her cheeks, embarrassed by her own tactlessness. _

_Ron nodded, narrowing his eyes towards the brunette. She bit her lip in fear of making anymore indiscretions. Hermione thought for a moment, imagining she was leading her friends into deadly skirmishes. However she could not allow herself to think of such things. Not yet._

_'What's wrong with Ginny? She didn't seem herself at all today.'_

_Hermione assured this time her voice was nothing more than a whisper, searching the hallway for any stray ears. Ron too matched her wandering eyes, before replying in his low tones._

_'She weren't feelin' too good this morning. I guess we're all wound a little tight.' _

_With a huff, Hermione shook her curls trying to dismiss Ron's calculations. She knew it was true, as she - just as much as everyone - felt the tension. _

_'C'mon, Hermione. We've got more important things to think about. Go and round up everyone for the patrol.'_

_""_

Her precipitating waking gave no aid to her patchy dreams. Since there were no windows in her cavernous room, she had no estimation of time, suddenly faltering at the lack of daylight. No wonder it was so impossible to think when she could not even remember last time she had bathed in the glorious beams of sunshine that use to flourish her being. 

Thankfully however, her headache had passed, leaving only proper function behind it. Forcing her eyes open, Hermione grabbed for the letter clutching at the rough material. However although her mind was prepared for such concentration, she could not shake the everlasting sense of Ron around her.

Every time she saw his face, dancing in her memories, all the grief of his parting would flow terribly, leaving nothing more than emptiness in her heart. Additionally, even though her last memories of Harry were not fond, she missed him equally as much.

It was hard to forget her friends but if she was to not make their mistakes carved in vain, Hermione had to divulge herself into whatever was necessary. Needless to say, the letter was the most important part of that challenge.

However it was not only the eternal sense of loss she felt. There was something else, manifesting in the corners of brains, warning her…

She knew it was not wise to trust to Draco but as she read the parchment she felt as though she trusted Harry's opinion far more than childish grudges.

_Dragons have not succeeded,_

_But you are not in the hands of fools._

Surely, if Draco was planning and alternative, then Harry would not have accepted his hand in the first place. Not to mention subjecting himself to a dose of Veritaserum. Or at least, so Draco said…

_Stop being so ridiculous, Hermione. It's far to elaborate to make that much sense. _

However something far more startling began to occur to her, all the past events and Harry's constant disappearance at the cabin. Surely that alone was enough to make it all not a coincidental façade.

Her mind began to wander, trailing off into patching all the peculiar things she could never have before even dreamt that they were all remotely connected. Yet somehow, after everything, Harry's final departure had never been able to be explained.

In a flash of inspiration, it seemed almost comical how it had been so obvious yet it took this long for her to solve the riddles.

Perhaps the letter was not of discovering something new but discovering something old. Something that had already happened, events that had taken their course of motion, it had already dawned upon her but not in this way.

_Why would Harry encrypt things in a nature of the world now, when I know nothing of it?_

It had been very thought that had spurred Hermione into having any idea on knowing how to decipher the mysterious riddle. This, was the exact same thing. Perhaps the letter or a way of interoperating it, was link to one of the most crucial days of Hermione's recent life.

Furthermore, this was perhaps why Draco could not understand it himself and perhaps this was why it seemed so deeply personal.

Pulling the letter level with her nectar eyes, her eyes frantically darted across the singular sheet. It would only be wise to revise what she had already learnt.

_Okay, so I know it has something to do with logic and the characteristics of Ravenclaw. Secondly I know it is somehow linked to our fourth year and the Yule Ball. Lastly, there is the issue of trust…_

However no individual idea seemed the make a connection to another. She could only assume that the whole had to be deciphered before actually having any understanding.

Scanning the three stanzas, she noticing not a clue had been made from the lines that lay in the middle.

_Once seen Death, the path will guide;_

_Towards the masses that took their form._

_Requirement made a side,_

_Taking little notice of the storm._

Reading over and over again, each word she saw felt like a phrase she had never heard prior to this point. No matter how many times she forced it to emboss her brain, nothing would come of it. Yet Hermione felt, out of everything that the first line should have been something she knew.

_Once seen Death, the path will guide…_

The more she took it in, the less sense it all seemed to make.

'Of course!'

Hermione shrieked before she was even sure what her mind thought but she knew this was the first step toward unravelling the mystery.

She recalled what she saw as the image flickered against the inside of skull. A distance dream of her three friends, prepared for the ball. The eyeless boy cursed her thoughts but that was not what she was trying to remember. Harry had said 'after this, you will be able to find me.' What had she seen so much of, what had the dream presented to her? Death was **all** she had seen.

As the illustrations of her subconscious floated back to her, Dumbledore's voice and Hagrid's booming presence seeped into the foreground. Yet what relevance was it that Hagrid – perhaps the gentlest man she had ever met – was executioning a young, eyeless boy?

She was convinced that every detail she had seen was somehow had an influence leaking from the nevereaches of her own intelligence. Hermione could not bring herself to remember the so many which had perished for the sake of nothing. However she couldn't help admiring the qualities she loved so much of the friendly giant.

His kind hearted nature was incomparable, even for the most peculiar and hated of 'breeds'.

Hermione paused, thinking…

She recited her thoughts to herself once again, as some form of connection had begun to process in her mind. There was a creature, one that held the omen of death? Perhaps for the most logical of reason? Perhaps one could only see them, once they have seen death?

Creature's notorious for their navigational instincts.

_Once seen Death, the path will guide;_

_Towards the masses that took their form._

_Thestrals… _She thought to herself, knowing that she was that one step closer towards find Harry Potter. Maybe, there was an army to find, one that they could only be directed to by the Thestrals…

Out of nowhere, a large plume of thick smoke appeared to the side of her bed, interrupting her thoughts completely.

'Miss! I have been instructed by Master Malfoy that Verrill shall prepare Miss for the dinner this evening!'

He bowed graciously desperately trying to supress the excitement in his voice. Hermione also noticed the spring in his feet as it appeared Verrill was also trying to master his bouncing.

With the click of the elf's spindly fingers, another cloud of fog appeared. Fading away to revealed a piece of folded up, red material.

Attempting to allow it to flow freely, the house elf struggled with such a lengthy piece of fabric. However as soon as the golden sparkles came into view, Hermione was rendered utterly speechless. Almost snatching it from the elf grasp, she held the dress before examining the exquisite detail. From the shoulders down the hips it was encrusted with bright golden scales, each placed perfectly symmetrical.

It was completely elegant, only allowing her bare arms to show, however that was not to say it didn't appear incredibly fitted.

The excitement did not desist from his speech for long as Verrill spun around, dramatically placing his hands over his bulging eyes.

'Verrill will not look Miss!'

Smiling to his grandeur, Hermione did not waste a single second as she let her robe fall freely from her, only to slip into the red dress promptly afterwards.

She smoothed down the material before she allowed the elf to turn back around. Giving him permission, his single ear flapped wildly and his eyes burst free.

'Verrill must say you look beautiful Miss!'

Taking a few paces towards, her face brightened towards his familiarity and his placed his hand at the side of his mouth. Lowering his voice, he look around regardless that it was impossible for anyone else to be around.

'Much better than Mistress Weasley!'

Shocked at the utter cheekiness of the elf, a genuine laugh erupted from her stomach as though she was being attacked by grand feather. Verrill made an attempt to wink, only increasing Hermione's giggles as he seem completely satisfied at his comment.

Waving his hand in the air in extraordinary fashion, Hermione felt as though her hair was possessed by snakes but the laughter continued nonetheless. Feeling lighter than she had done in years, the tickle around the back of neck broke her giddiness as her fingers crept towards her curls. It seemed as though the elf performed some spectacular magic, causing Hermione's hair to sweep itself into a modest up style.

'Verrill believes Miss is most ready!'

Almost forgetting the destination, Hermione heart stopped as the dread of the dinner brought a new welcoming to her insides. Somehow Verrill had prepared her in a matter of seconds with the utmost skill and most one dispute from Hermione.

_No wonder Malfoy likes him. _She thought bitterly. However as he stuck his hand out, pleading with his sympathetic eyes, she gripped around the petit digits as she closed her eyes waiting for the constriction of apparition.


	17. Like a Fly in Honey

**Okay guys, sorry this chapter took so long, I was on holiday for two weeks and you know. It's holiday! I managed to write this in two days though to try and make up for it, so hopefully it's up to standard. Anyway, it looks like a I might actually have the luck of work soon and due to the nature of my job it's super demanding so uploads will be a bit more spaced out than before (I doubt any chapter will take longer than three weeks however...) But yeah, just to let you all you know, you guys are the best! Thanks so much for reading, and continuing to read, I'm absolutely blown away by how many people have actually read it! :D:D:D**

**I hope it's all still exciting, and that it's good enough for you lot :P So yeah, thankyouthankyouthankyou! And of course, keep reading and reviewing ;) **

**3 xx**

Chapter Seventeen

_Like a Fly in Honey_

* * *

Since the crack of early dawn had made it first appearance of the day, Ginny had spent the many hours since, ensure she looked nothing less than perfect. Several potions had been delivered to her room the night before – more than likely from the interfering house elf – all of which were designed to groom, replenish or enhance.

Along with all of the remedy's, Ginny had received a full length dark green gown, with a long and low neckline, and the back cut out completely. However what excited the redhead the most about it was the impressively lengthy leg slit that travelled all the way to her hipline, revealing one slender alabaster leg. Licking her lips, she could not wait to see the look on Malfoy's face when she walked in looking positively magnificent.

Her russet mane swept around her face as usual as she glared into the emphasised mirror before her. While she was alone, it was often her favourite place to sit.

It was not necessarily out of vanity but out of pride of how she risen in the world. A place had been found for her, one she deserved. One that ensure her power and worth was unrivalled by any other. However there was a long road to take still, one she was sure that would not come as easily as it should do.

Ginny truly believed that one day it would be all hers, whether or not a man would lead her to such things. She had never accepted segregation of the sexes nor had she ever thought that a woman's worth was lower than any man. Yet she knew that to manipulate in the background, to allow the opposite to believe there were in control with her at **their **side, was something entirely different.

The throne would be hers but it was paramount that no filthy Mudblood would steal her rights from under her nose.

It would be stupid to think that after all the petting she had received from Malfoy that it would not aid her in anyway and it was only a matter of time before Hermione came to the same conclusion. That Malfoy was way out of the godforsaken hole of never ending doom.

The redhead snorted to herself, not allowing her to admit the continuing thunder of jealous that obsessed freely in her own heart. She could not spare the little precious time she had mulling over such an undeserving component. The vague shades of distraction contested around her thoughts as the overwhelming sense of weakness took like stormy waves throughout her body.

Ginny knew it would not be long before the incapacity would soon follow. Her condition had deteriorated over the past few days. Previously the symptoms would ponder over a week before any real effect decided to reach her.

Now however was entirely different, her hands had already begun to shake while her ears rang with the blood that felt so forced into them. The inside of her mouth shrivelled through a complete disappearance of any moisture. Instinctively her tongue slid forward, only to stick to the roof of her mouth like a fly in honey. Swallowing thickly, Ginny could only close her eyes to the fading of reality.

Folding heavily, her eyelids clasped down on her vision as she felt herself tumble in a heavenly tunnel of serenity and silence. Ginny continued to fall, sinking into the void of unconsciousness, she allowed herself to slip… calmly and peacefully.

It was then the wall hit her. The happiness screamed away from her and all she was left with was the death and destruction that would await her. His face… Blood… Her own cries as he ripped into her flesh. The red glow of his soulless eyes as his serrated teeth peeled away at Ginny's soft, pale skin. A sharp splinter of agonising pain stabbed itself across her face as the once so innocent freckles were torn horrifically away from her cheeks.

Ginny fell back from her chair, colliding heavily with the corner of her bed. The force realigned her senses, at least enough for her to return to the living. Attempting to move she found herself numb to any mental command as the back of her skull began to pulse from the injury. Her hands still shook and this time her eyes followed but not like before. This time she had no idea of the images she would see.

""

_Her bare feet stumbled heavily across the stone floor as her balanced was hindered by her tied wrists. Yaxley marched behind her pressing his wand into her back. She knew without looking behind her that it was not his own but one that had been carved into a knife like point, just to make the walk as fearful as he could._

_The purple beam that circumferenced her wrists had begun to burn the moment he materialized it around her and now the scorching heat eroded the malnutrition joints. However Ginny continued to walk with what little balance she could muster and her thoughts were determined to remain clear. _

_They could beat her, humiliate her, rape her and kill her. Nothing would cause her fear and nothing would cause her to struggle, to fight, to give them that satisfaction of knowing they had destroyed her. If they thought they were the true forms of evil, the servants of the Devil, they could try but Ginny would never be broken by such pitiful men._

_If death would await her – which she had a sure feeling this was what the charade was over – she would take it gladly. It would be her last and final performance - the only time she had would be given a chance at honour. She would die knowing it was a self-sacrifice, to be a martyr, strength to all those who had suffer the same. It was impossible to think that any captive here would have been condemned any less. They were all toys, playthings, punch bags, even food for Voldemort's dog. Yet this, whatever she was being led to, was different._

_The sharp point carved deeper into her vertebrae as she knew her thoughts had slowed down her footing. Ginny did not dare to look back through fear of falling and would not degrade herself any further. _

_She could not deny she was fearful of the sort of fate that lay patiently in the Great Hall but one thing Ginny was sure of, was that she would not be tossed to side as an empty corpse just like the others. Before that, they would pay in all the ways she had._

_Yaxley continued to push her through the twisting cold corridors and it was not long before the looming, intimidating double doors of the Great Hall were standing before her. _

_They fell open and Ginny stumbled through, the bright light of the many candles danced blindingly around her. Naturally her eyes squinted and her red hair dropped forward protecting her eyesight further. _

_After the brightness had assaulted her main sense, the deafening commotion of the deep voices of many men suffocated her hearing. She could feel their starved eyes streaking her barely covered body - she had always been favoured by most. The only thing she could be thankful for towards Yaxley, was that he was far too possessive to allow most of the near her. _

_Ginny could not help but think bitterly, that the fear they held for Yaxley would not stop each and every single one of them trying to defile her give half a chance. She scorned the primitive evil lust that these wizards frequently held. Additionally it was not just these ones. Everyone, woman or man, wizard or Muggle was only a slave to their natural instinct. At least Ginny had an excuse… Yet all she could think was; where was the much needed hero to recuse her from this hell?_

_No longer could her hope be placed into a wild fantasy that her knight would swoop down and take her away from all of this. Ginny had to accept that although she was the master of her fate, she had no more options than a chicken in a cage. Escape was futile and this was her end._

_However she marched forward, her head held high now that it had adjusted to the surroundings. She would not appear scared - she would only be welcoming of the sickening acts they would no doubt make her perform. After all, why else would she be here?_

_In front of her lay the platform where the former staff of Hogwarts would proudly honour their students with warm and loving arms. Now the serpentine Dark Lord stood just as Dumbledore himself would have but with nothing more than a malicious sneer plastered across his face. _

_Behind him stood Bellatrix, her face half covered in a doll like mask, covering the injury Ginny had caused her during the battle. She could see the malic of insanity building in the older witch's eyes as it was plain to see she blighted Ginny for ruining her beauty. Not like the redhead really thought the Death Eater was anything special any way but knowing not only that she scarred Bellatrix's face but her ego as well, only brought pure satisfaction. _

_On the other side of Voldemort stood Greyback, his personal dog. A mangy creature if there ever was and no doubt twice as animalistic as everyone else present. If there was one Death Eater she was glad to not cross paths with, it was him. Luckily for her however, the werewolf only ever received the leftovers from the camps. _

_As she walked closer, sitting directly behind all of them, on the right handed throne next to the Dark Lord's, sat Draco Malfoy. His skinny frame and bored expression had not changed one bit since school. As she stared defiantly towards him, he noticed her, straightening his back and leaning forward in response. From where she stood she could already see the iced artic eyes twisting at her insides. However it was not the same internal anguish that was caused by others. It was curious, even inquisitive._

_However Bellatrix had clearly noticed the unusual exchange looking behind her towards her nephew. Both Ginny and Malfoy averted their eyes elsewhere, he towards his aunt in contempt and Ginny to anywhere else but him. _

_Looking around her, the walls were aligned with hanging body's where the school crests use to so gloriously decorate the stone walls. There were four girls on one side, four boys on the other. All stripped and beaten, shoulders visibly dislocated and none older than sixteen. _

_Ginny saw where she was to go, a whole row of about twenty other peers stood regimentally, tied at the wrists with their masters right behind them. Casting her eyes over the sullen and petrified faces, she saw some that she knew. Cho and Dean stood at each end, both covered in blackened marks and swollen eyes. The others were too physically desecrated to even recognise. All had the typical shadow of resistance, purple wrists, throats and thighs. After all, nothing here was left to the imagination. _

_It was then that her eyes drifted towards a tall blonde girl. All were painfully thin, but this one was nothing more than a painted skeleton. Her hair was cut right to the scalp, with patches of baldness splattered across it. Ginny could she her shaking from the other end of the room as her knees bent in cowardice. Ginny was sure she recognised her and squinted to gain better focus. It was not long before she drew near to her, merely only a meter a way. _

_She could not place her no doubtful once delicate features – ones that had been mashed into a pulp. She noticed Ginny, and her startling blue eyes casted up towards her in plea. It was then Ginny knew that this was the once spectacular Fleur Delacour. _

_Ginny had a sure feeling she was being walked past the line to increase some sort of terror and it was true that it was unnerving to see such normal people degraded to this. However she could not afford to falter and merely looked stony eyed towards the sobbing faces of all. She was taken to the very end right next Dean – an old boyfriend – and now as she stood beside him, Ginny could not help but notice that it looked like his back had been broken several times. _

_Hunched and limp, he stood there nearly as defiant as her, yet the expression of abhorrence was unmistakable. Ginny was dragged to her spot, facing all those who awaited the show of virtuous souls tortured and executed._

_Her breathing and her heart remained steady and not one tremor resonating on her exterior. Rancorously, she thought that this was her night to shine._

_'Tonight…' _

_The Dark Lord's eerie cold pitch voice drummed throughout the room, forcing silence to descend upon them. 'Tonight will be a special night for all! Here you have before you, a selection of the once great students only worthy for wizards like us!'_

_He paused, allow a cheer to ripple around, the banging of goblets and the sinister laugh of many. _

_'None of you have been informed of the details of such a precious evening… Yet you have all gathered in hope for something promising. I can indeed confirm that this… will be __**nothing**__ like you have seen before.' _

_Everyone remained silent yet the wicked grin's delved into the atmosphere around each awaiting captive. This was all part of the game and all of her contemporaries, including Dean, had already begun to quaver to the Patriarch's words. _

_'My dear young Master Malfoy made a very intriguing and entertaining suggestion. It appears he in need of a new specimen, all of you are aware how easily they are worn… However to his graciousness, he wanted to share this moment with you all. Master Malfoy is not only in need but deserving of a slave of high calibre. Naturally there would be only one way to determine this…' _

_Ginny had to fight to keep her head from turning. This was not what she expected. She could not make sense of his words a part from that this was something from the slimy snake that was Draco Malfoy. His hand had interfered in her fate and she had a certain feeling that this was perhaps her chance. The cage had been opened but she was too afraid to leave. So she waited like the many other ears for the following words of the Dark Lord._

_'Tonight you will witness a grand tournament, one which will pit all these lower beings in a challenge, __**of death**__.'_

_For the first time, Ginny's composure became uneven. Taking in a sharp bout of breath, she could feel the hand of Yaxley sliding underneath her dress. Out of habit her body did not flinch to the ever creeping hands, although the bile naturally rose in her tract. His fingers lurked around the top of thighs, dancing between the front and the back. Wherever he was to venture, Ginny would have her last final goodbye. _

_Closing her eyes in patience she focused on anything but, however the fire she so often tried to fight began to build within her. Mentally she dared him to take the plunge, to give herself an excuse of demeaning the wizard behind her. She told herself to wait, that this was not her moment. _

_A solitary finger glided over the creases between her legs and she saw Dean look towards her and then hand that had disappeared under the tunic. He looked away sharply, almost embarrassed to what he saw. He was a coward, just like the others. As his gaze averted the Dark Lord continued._

_'So gentlemen, if you would kindly adjust you seating to allow the arena to be made.'_

_In unison, each wizard arose casting their wands at the old dining benches, moving them further towards the walls on each side, directly under the suspended children. As soon as they had reseated themselves, a tall wired pen erected itself into the middle of the hall. This was their arena, the one she had to escape from._

_'In the true tradition of Hogwarts, we have structured this fairly. Each will have their chance to prove themselves as worthy as they can be for the Malfoy boy.' An eager smile played on faces of all but the competitors. Once all friends, even a family, now had to kill each other for a prize that held no meaning or sense. This was all sheerly for the entertainment of Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters. _

_'The first will be Chinese Pureblood and her redheaded friend, who I'm sure you both remember, had you little school club ruined due to the latter. What was its name? Oh yes, of course! Dumbledore's Army.' A laugh was evident behind his words and initially Ginny thought he was referring to her. As soon as this was announced, Yaxley removed his hand, obviously more excited by a life and death match of high brutally than fondling an easily accessible bit of meat. Her chest heaved in relief - at least she might have a chance of dignity before her number was up. _

_However this was more than a death match for fun, this was cruelty to see the closest of those callously kill another with bare hands. After all, Pureblood or not, they were still undeserving of a wand. _

_Travers and Carrow dragged both girls towards the pen, unlocking the door and throwing them in. Binding the door behind them, they took seats on a nearby table, gaining probably a great view. Cho and Marietta pushed themselves up, looking at each other and their hungry audience. Neither of the girls looked ready to fight, nor willing. Shouts of impatience rose from all the Death Eater's and Ginny wondered of what they would be punished to if they chose not to fight._

_Her question was soon answered as the Dark Lord stepped forward, an angry snarl within his words._

_'If you do not fight, I will make sure that every single one of these men will take their turns into __**destroying**__ every part of you in front of their ecstatic friends. It will be your choice.'_

_Ginny felt that it was made perfectly clear what Voldemort meant by 'destroying.' She hoped for their sake, that they would have the same sense of honour of killing each other. After all, there was over two hundred men sitting around, all even more hankering to see how the events would be taken._

_It was not the first time Ginny had witnessed a Neolithic spark erupt within someone when their life had really been put to the test. It was the simple question of them or us. Would they fight for their lives, to know that one would survive while the other could die swiftly and compassionately at the hand of friend? Or take the cowardice way of persecuting both of them to the most brutal and horrific way to die. To be savaged by every man present. _

_She could see their battered faces weighing up the decisions with every eye upon them, only a minority nervous to the outcome. However it was what happened next that took everyone, especially Ginny, by surprise. She never thought Cho would be the first to take action, not against one of her closest friends. Ginny had fought beside her, hidden with, undergone patrols in the dead of night but she was sure Marietta would be the one to instigate. _

_Yet Cho sprung forward with an unknown speed. Immediately she pinned her former Ravenclaw school friend underneath her. Her tea coloured hands sought their way to the back of hair. Ginny watch dumbfounded, not entirely sure of what she was seeing. The Death Eaters roared, some even stood to the excitement as Cho began repeatedly smashing Marietta's head into the impenetrable floor beneath them. _

_Within seconds it was evident to see the girl below already losing consciousness. It was then that Cho removed her hand, taking her fist to land with unequivocal force, each time, into the already bloodied face. The macabre red water began to spill from Marietta's head, blending into to her naturally red hair. However Cho did not stop. _

_Left, right, left, right. Each punch landed with the same wincing force. The girl underneath her fell completely limp. It was not until then that Cho stood up, staring in utter shock at her swollen blood covered hands. She just stood there, gazing. Turning them over in disbelief at the damage they had just caused._

_It was at that moment, a piercing howl of terror left her lips._

_""_

Ginny opened her eyes to room on its side. Peering up she was on the floor with the bright pink tulip shaped phial clasped tightly in her hand. She pulled her head from the floor, placing both her hands around the stopper, flicking it off with both of her thumbs. Her mind was easily disorientated and everything spun around her. She needed this potion.

Hulling it towards her pale lips, she tipped it forward, drinking down the fruity liquid. It caught slightly in her throat, forcing her to give a small cough. Ginny pulled her front up, sitting on top of her knees. The skirt of her dress flowed around her and the silky material sat gently upon her skin.

As she looking around, panting heavily, Ginny silently cursed Lord Voldemort for his sadistic antics. Not only for the tournament of pitting friends against friends but the magical illness he had forced up each and every single one of them.

Scalvus Blood. Something injected into them, developed from the venom of the Acrumantula's and manipulated further by the Dark Lord himself. Within the first day of being held at the castle, she was thrown into the dudgeons to await her selection. They dragged her from there, stripped her and examined her to see how healthy and 'innocent' she was. However none of that mattered. She was the love of Harry Potter, they would send her to the most merciless of servants and indeed they sent her to Yaxley.

However it was not only the embarrassing inspections they placed her under. At this time there was no fight left inside Ginny. The person who she belong with, who she was meant to spend the rest of her life with, disappeared with no goodbye to her. She had no idea of what happened to George and witness the death of her closest brother with no choice on being able to help him. As far as she was concerned, she would be satisfied with whatever monstrosities they would place her under.

Yet she was not away from the corrupting they cause her internally. A magical bound to ensure if she ever did escape, if she ever left the castle, she would become gravely ill with unspeakable hallucinations and ultimately and endless existence of repeated suffering.

Not only would she become physically frail, dizzy and weak, but the visions of Lord Voldemort doing things that lay beyond her imagination would continue to haunt her. Wherever she went, she could not escape that place or the evil creatures that would constantly attempt to drag her to hell. Yet that was the idea, to ensure she could never be mentally rescued.

It would never end. She would never have a dream of happiness or any thought of elation. At some point she would always be rendered back into a pathetic slave and the only reason she had made it this far was all thanks to Draco.

He knew of the condition, knew how to counteract it, after all his potion making skills were truly unfathomable. Now the blend had adjusted within her body, within a second of taking it both physical and mental symptoms would fade back into normality. As long as Ginny kept taking the beautifully tasting pink liquid, she knew she would be okay.

However a question kept replaying in her mind. Surely the Dark Lord would know that somehow Draco was preventing it, blocking out all the pain it caused. If the Scalvus Blood was designed to tortured, why would Voldemort allow Draco to medicate it?

This was a question best saved for later. She casted her gaze towards the European styled cuckoo clock only realising she had five minutes before dinner would start. If there was one thing Malfoy hated, it was tardiness.

Pushing herself to stand, she placed the empty bottle delicately on the glass table. Smoothing out the last of her appearance, Ginny grabbed for a shell encrusted box, pulling it towards her. Folding back the hinged lid, the bottle was decorated with beautifully carved silver jewellery. Some were made from metals and gemstones she did not even know the name of. However that was irrelevant and the outfit would not be complete without its framing counterpart.

So she allowed her fingers to rummage gently within the box, finding herself a pair of diamond and onyx earrings that dangled like feathers. Next were a dew drop pendant necklace – also from the same materials – and a delicate snake like Nephrite bracelet, which twisted softly around her feminine wrists.

Securing each piece perfectly, she gave one final ice cold pose into the mirror. If anyone's heart was going to break it would most certainly not be hers but Malfoy's. She knew his male instincts, no matter how much more composed they were, was just as weak as anyone else's. Not only that but she was sure if the stupid bitch of a Mudblood was to join them, she would know that Ginny's place remained far higher than hers. A smile broke on her lips and the smugness of utter pretentious would not leave her face.

Taking her wand, she had a feeling it might become useful, she tucked it slyly into the back of her dress, horizontally to the base of her spine. Checking to make sure it did not pouch her dress she made a few adjustments just to be sure.

Giving one last smirk towards herself, Ginny left the room taking the cold twisting route towards Malfoy's dining room. It did not take her long and she was thankful for the walk, sometimes it felt much better to use her physical means than her magical ones. In a matter of moments, she approached the wooden double door that would lead to the evening's events.

Standing before the doors, she could not help but pause a replay her distant memories. She had no idea what would lay behind them, and how it would all play out. After all, it was the first time all of three of them would actually be in the same room.

So Ginny stood there, thinking that she could only imagine what would lie beyond these doors.


	18. The Game Wasn't About To Start Just Yet

**So just to spoil you all with my lack of writing in the past two weeks, this is the next chapter just a day after the last one :P**

**Happy readings!**

**xxx**

Chapter Eighteen

_ The Game Wasn't About To Start Just Yet _

* * *

Draco arrived at the room before either of the girls had made it down. He was thankful he did, if he arrived after, he would be sure to encounter just two dead corpses and a lot of mess. Neither of which he particularly wanted to deal with.

Folding his fingers around the back of the chair, he pulled it out. Allowing the feet of the chair to screech harshly against the wooden floor, he did so regretfully wishing that he did not have to sit at the head of the table. The exact place his father would sit. Ignoring this sense of nauseating reminiscence, the Death Eater brushed off the everlasting apparition of both of his parents.

Sitting into the chair, Draco pulled it forward, tucking the waist down promptly under the table. He stared down the long wooden surface - it was big enough to seat sixteen people and certainly enough room to spread the girls out. He needed them to be close but not in a position where a nasty exchange could develop so quickly. Of course, the Mudblood would sit nearest to him.

He placed his Hawthorn onto the table alongside the set cutlery and perfectly parallel. Resting onto his elbows, he folded his hand neatly, resting his mouth against them. Draco could only try and avoid the grand tapestry that hung to his right above a nearly as illustrious fireplace. Sown into it were all the faces of both the Malfoy and Black family, all of which were connected with sinisterly twisting branches.

Many of the faces had been burnt, either through abandonment or death. Most, in the beginning were the first, however since the war had broken out there had been many new additions. All of which he had to do himself. Having to do his mother's was the most heart breaking. Draco prayed that he could leave her face looking down onto him, however there was no time to keep holding onto the past not when the future seemed so incredibly bleak.

Grabbing his wand quickly he filled the empty goblet before him with his favourite bourbon liquid. Reaching for it, he brought it towards his mouth sipping slower than usual at it. The burn brought something, a sense of patience. Draco was unsure what to think apart from to hope that tonight would go as he planned. After all, this was the crucial moment, a catalyst to set in stone the most important future events.

Taking a hasty sip, he heard a crack of someone who had just apparated behind the doors. Lowering his goblet, his eyes focus towards it, trusting that Ginny would be the first to make an appearance. He hoped that Verrill would delay Hermione as much as possible. If so, then Ginny would be the first, the one who would have to see the Mudblood walk into the room.

It was the small intricate details he had to hone, the things that manipulated both of them to his will. If Ginny was the seated first, then Hermione would have the grand entrance. The one to walk in and sit next to Malfoy himself.

Straightening his posture, he braced trying to detect who it could be.

'Come in.'

His voice was low and commanding, not betraying one single apprehension. The door pushed forward and in slunk Ginny Weasley, with her long flowing copper hair and a ridiculously well fitted green dress. _I knew she would look good in it._

A small smirk played on his lips as his could not resist the thirst building. She stopped slowly, obviously waiting for his permission to sit but even more obviously just to flaunt that little bit more.

Draco stood, pushing the chair out behind him and walking halfway down the table. Taking out the middle chair, he gestured with his hands towards the seat inviting Ginny to sit. She walked silently towards him, not once removing her sienna gaze. Stopping just before him, he looked down onto her, tempted easily by the look her face. Draco knew exactly what she was playing at and the last thing he needed was for her to acknowledge his desire for her, he could only wish that his eyes would not portray anything too incriminating.

As she sat, the tips of her fingers caressed his chest ever so slightly. The tingle released almost instantly as Draco gripped the back of her chair for support. _Don't do anything stupid._ No matter what he thought, he could not help the heat building inside of him.

Pushing Ginny in, he turned his back and marched back towards his own seat. 'Can I offer you a drink?' His voice was in no doubt sly but merely the casual curiosity he needed to emit. After all, the game wasn't about to start just yet.

Turning her pale face, Ginny glanced towards him, raising one eyebrow.

'I suppose so.'

The mock was uncontrolled her voice and Draco could not help but worry how the lack of a hold she had on her emotions would hinder him in the time to come. He could only suggest that maybe her instabilities would increase her loyalty if tailored correctly.

As he did for himself, he grabbed his wand filling Ginny's goblet silently. She took to the cup as soon as Draco laid his wand down. Gulping heavily he looked upon at her with dull eyes. His thoughts were rife but at the same time incredibly blank. Knowing he would to his obey to own plans instinctively this did not worry Draco, however as his gaze continued to look towards the redheaded siren, he felt his composure slipping all the more.

He had never been an emotional person, especially when it came to his female conquests. They were there to please to him, to be honoured by such attention. Draco often grew bored of the mindless girls constantly sniffing around him that tried to worm their way into his bed. With Ginny however it was a completely different story, it felt like he was the one chasing her - the one who was hypnotised by her well estimated physical ploys.

They both remained silent, Ginny with her eyes casted adamantly forward and Draco with his eyes continuing to bore into her. His mind wandered over the irony of the past few years. Since before the battle, he had to lead a double life, constantly looking over his shoulder to wipe up his tracks. Every minute of every day was spent calculating his lies and schemes all in order to swallow his pride and side with Potter and keep the Dark Lord unknowing of the truth.

Even during the battle of Hogwarts - right under the Dark Lord's nose - he hexed Bellatrix into falling onto to him all in order for Golden Trio to escape. During the capturing of the filth he maintained the castle, blocking up certainly routes and allowing new secret passages to be made. This of course was a lot easier said than done, yet it all necessary to ensure Potter made it into the castle as frequently as he could.

He took to his goblet, drinking it frustration and slamming it down onto the table harder than he intended. Ginny looked over with her usually pious look of smugness only to turn away again in complete disregard. Draco's face contorted to a grimace and he thought of the first time he saw her at the castle prison. Even then, after being under the ownership of Yaxley for months, she was marched into the Great Hall with the same look of undeserved virtue and as obstinate as ever.

The tournament itself gave no real interest to Draco - all he knew was that he had to get Ginny out of there for his own sake - and that was the only foreseeable way. Unfortunately however he could not help but think that somehow, it only increased her fractiousness and almost insanity.

However if anyone knew that everything came at a cost, it was most certainly Draco. One day soon, his positioning would be secure. There would be no war and certainly no other wizard to challenge him. His sights were set high and the hopes he always dreamed of seemed to fall ever closer. On the other hand, none of that would be accomplished without the youngest Weasley standing firmly by his side.

Fortunately for him, both Potter's and his own new found strength had appeared to align.

Sighing deeply, he grabbed his wand to refill both Ginny's goblet and his. Casting her smoldering eyes towards him, she raised her cup slightly in offer of a toast. Draco mirrored her actions, unnerved by her. It appeared he was not the only one with a hidden agenda.

Just then a familiar barreled crack echoed in the hallway outside. It appeared his last and final guest had arrived.


	19. She Wanted To Crush Her

Chapter Nineteen

_She Wanted To Crush Her_

* * *

Draco invited her in and the heavy wooden doors opened to reveal the presence of the Mudblood. She stood there attempting to hold her head high as she flounced forward in a red and golden scaled dress.

Ginny's burning sienna gaze would not leave her and Hermione would not risk returning the courtesy. Draco stood immediately, forcing the younger girl to distract her gaze and look his way. He did just as he did with her. He walked to a seat and pulled it out for the Muggle-born. Except this was not a seat that was indignant enough for a girl of her pettiness – it was chair only a few away from the head of the table.

The audacity of it all manipulated Ginny's face into a spiteful and malice frown. How dare she be seated so close to the Malfoy heir, when she had dirty blood running through her veins? The red material flowed around her slim body as though it was water, folding and swirling to each delicate movement she made. Ginny refused to be jealous, knowing she received much more of a personal welcome from Draco. _It goes to show how well the wonders of magic can pay off… _

As Hermione sat down all timid and meek, Ginny's anger began to rise. It was absolute outrage that she even thought herself worthy of accepting such a seat. As Ginny's narrowed eyes continued to follow Hermione to her chair, she could not help but develop a deepening sense of spite for the Mudblood.

There was a part of the redhead that felt that Hermione's rosy complexion and perfect bronze curls was something that she simply could not stand. Not out of direct jealously but for the fact she, herself, was non comparable. However there was another part of her - perhaps even more dangerous - that wanted so passionately to challenge the dauntlessness of her former friend. She wished so deeply that the Mudblood had perished in the fire, regardless of the consequences she would have faced. The most annoying part was she doubted that Hermione even remember what exactly happened that one particular evening. Or for that matter, anyone else.

Yet all of that was completely immeasurable in comparison to all the pain the Mudblood had caused in the past. It seemed as though now, it was just adding salt to injury. _That bitch will pay for leaving him._

'So… Hermione...' Ginny struggled to say her name and did so unwillingly, as she was far more use to the proper naming of the girl. The name to define exactly what she was. 'I heard you have recovered fully from the traumatic accident…' She put full emphasis on the last two words, ensuring it sounded as scathing as it was intended. The girl put her head down immediately and her voice was as demure as ever.

'Yes, well… Everything is fine now thank you. I can't possibly seem to think what had started it.'

Hermione glanced between both Ginny and Draco, seemingly unsure of where exactly to look. She sat there, fully composed and as a weak as expected. Her fingertips danced upon the wooden table surface as Ginny's eyes penetrated through her exterior.

Ginny smirked at her first triumph of the evening. Her conceitedness swelled within her as the upper hand gave the sweet taste of victory. She wanted to crush her, to serve her every ounce of pain and humiliation she could. _I want her dead._ The thought steamed Ginny's eyes with the exhilarating nectar of power.

Looking away, she caught Draco eye as an expression of almost caution lay upon his features. It was the same look of warning a mother would give to her misbehaving child. The way **her **mother would look at her so many times, and she knew it would be her first and final warning.

However, she did not care for this. Her mother was dead along with the rest of her beloved family. Yet there no way she would accept such a reprimanding from Malfoy, of all people. He was not in command of her and never will be again.

Out of the corner of Ginny's eye, she saw Hermione looking between the two who had still not yet disconnected their gaze. As her mind processed this, she shot the Mudblood a look that diverted her attention towards her own hands exceedingly quickly.

This night would just keep getting better and better.

'Hermione, could I offer you a drink perhaps?'

Ginny turned her head, staring directly towards Draco. How could he address her as though she was his equal? He seemed to have forgotten that he was perhaps the one who held the most hate to Muggles, Mudbloods and Half-Bloods alike.

The older girl nodded frailly and Draco smiled softly, picking up his wand.

'Perhaps you would prefer something like a Honeywater wine?'

Again she dipped her head in a shy fashion and Ginny could not suppressed a smirk from forming on her lips. Even with all of Hermione's so called new found beauty, she was still as pitiful as ever. The sound of liquid trickled through the air as Ginny took to her own her drink, finishing the last remnants.

A stiff breeze whistled throughout the cavernous room and Ginny slid her hand around the back of her dress, ensuring the Aspen was still in place. Satisfied that in remained in place, she turned to Malfoy, raising her eyebrows in questions. 'So, when will the dinner start? I'm growing rather hungry, Draco.'

She stared at him intently but he did not once reciprocate the favour. He clicked his fingers calling for the elf, whom appeared instantaneously afterwards.

'Yes, Master Sir. Verrill is gladly at Master's service.'

Ginny turned her head in annoyance as the puerile, shrill voice turned her blood to ice.

'Serve the starter course. Make it quick.'

The elf disappeared behind his cloud of smoke just as quickly as he had arrived. Ginny looked over the two at the far end of the table, neither of which was looking her way. She felt absolutely infuriated that she was casted to the side like she was the one who had no right to be there.

This fueled her spite towards the Mudblood and felt that something had to be done in order to re-establish her hierarchy.

'Draco tells me that you have not yet been given a wand.' Ginny commented.

Hermione looked up, seemingly unsure of whether Ginny was actually addressing her. The confusion on her face began to appear as the redhead felt an increasing sense of self pride.

'Well… Erm… No, he hasn't. I assume you have received one.'

Ginny smiled towards her, fairly sure that it was not conducting the friendliness and warmth it should. In fact, she was fairly sure that it only gave the older girl a complete sense of uneasiness.

'Oh yes, it's a very spectacular Aspen wand, ten and a quarter inches and reasonably supple with a Dragon Heartstring core. It has the most beautiful design - around the grip it almost appears to have flames travelling up it.'

Ginny narrowed her eyes in challenge, however much to her annoyance, Hermione merely smiled towards the younger witch. The Weasley twitched her face in discontent, grabbing for her goblet, she picked it up only to realise that it was empty.

'Draco, another drink please.' She commanded blandly. Malfoy gave her a partial look, refilling her goblet without much concentration. As it became full, he placed down his wand turning his attention to the Muggle-born again.

'You will find new additions to your book collection when you return to your chambers. I believe it will be satisfactory form of compensation for the fire.'

This time the smile she gave was not one of shyness or weakness. It was a genuine smile, one reserved for Draco only. Ginny's vexation intensified by tenfold as she witnessed the interaction between the two. How dare she try to steal Ginny's place by Draco's side and even think that she had a chance with him. As she sat there all 'helpless,' Ginny could feel the fire coursing through her. Hermione's actions to such an obvious plot were growing more and more irksome.

_I'll teach that little bitch._

As Ginny looked down, her thoughts were interrupted by the food appearing on her plate. An avocado sliced in half, covered in prawns and accompanied with a light pink dressing, drizzled delicately over the meal.

She admired its presentation and could not help but feel satisfied by the elf's work. Regardless of how appetizing it looked however, she pushed the plate forward with her pale fingers, dismissing it completely.

Silence had fallen completely upon them. A thick overcast of suppressed awkwardness lingered throughout the chilled room. The eerie faces of all the remaining members of the Malfoy and Black family stared directly at Ginny, almost watching her, exacerbating every emotion within her.

Casting her dark brown eyes toward the meal in front of her, she heard the clank of metal and the provoking voice of the Mudblood.

'Draco…' The name cracked in the air as Hermione pushed the sounds from her lips. 'I was wondering if you could provide some more ink and a new nib for my quill. I've been doing, quite a lot of writing.'

No matter how uncomfortable she had made the words sound, Ginny saw nothing but the intrepid mutters of girl who thought she was undifferentiated in a world of the chain of command.

Before Malfoy could respond however, Ginny stood, pushing her chair out from underneath her forcefully with the back of her legs.

'Where does she get the right to address you as an equal!' She screamed and her expression was possessed with a feral disposition. Hermione jumped to the sudden outburst but Ginny was beyond the point of even gracing that bit of dirt with her eyes. Yet she stood, staring defiantly as ever and Draco put his head up, in an irritatingly bored manner.

'Can you please be quiet and sit down.' He ordered.

It was not particularly threatening but firm enough to make Ginny contemplate the repercussions of her words. Submitting, she sat back down furious with her own foolishness to obeying Malfoy's speech.

Thereafter, he completely disregarded her, turning back towards Hermione. His voice had gone from commanding, to enthusiastic within seconds. Ginny scolded the pair disgruntled, watching Draco the entire time.

'Very well. I'm glad to see you're putting them to good use.'

She giggled. A pathetically, annoying giggle. It felt like it produced ants to spawn under her skin, eating her away and forcing the fire to build inside her chest. As she simmered in her own hatred, the Death Eater's pointed face leaned forward towards Hermione, placing down his fork, he caressed the top of her hand with his.

Watching the affection, Ginny felt like ripping her hair out, screaming at the both of them, smashing every object in sight. However she tried deeply to suppressed her elevating rage as she slipped her hand around the back of dress.

She felt for the wood and pulled it out while Hermione and Draco continued their sickening display of closeness. She tried to focus her outlet onto Malfoy but somehow she knew he was not a fault for his own actions. As much as Ginny hated to admit it, it appeared that the Mudblood could play the game nearly as good as her.

The wand still lay in her hand underneath the table as everyone had seemed to have forgotten she was even there. She silenced the chair with the flick of her wand, pushing it out again from underneath her. She arose slowly, careful to not greet any sudden acknowledgment. Pointing the wand in front of her, both Hermione and Malfoy turned their heads to see Ginny on the other side of the table with her wand rose high.

Draco was the first speak with his calm and patronizing tone. 'I will not tell you again, sit down.' She did not even turn his way but kept her sights firmly locked onto the eldest girl who could barely even look at her.

'Fuck off, Malfoy. This doesn't concern you.'

To her surprise he sat back in his chair, allowing the scene to unfold.

'Now I would like to know is,' Ginny begun in a sadistic tone. 'Exactly what this little Mudblood whore thinks she is doing, pretending she is of Pureblood and has the right to sit beside us!'

Neither gave a response to Ginny's yells as Hermione began retract deeper within herself. Her Aspen wand was held steadily in her hand as it was directed exactly towards the supposedly pretty face, ready to utter an incantation at any moment.

'Every day I lied in that castle, worried that at any moment I would be savaged by anyone who felt obliged. I would pray that Potter would come to my aid… Only when he did, he only gave a shit about you, while I was there getting victimised in every way. And now… Now, you sit here as though you deserve it.'

Her voice was strong but Ginny could not mask the emotion behind it. Her former school friend looked up with doughy eyes, her lips parted in shock.

'Ginny… I've tried to explain… I just don't know what…'

'**Silence**!' Ginny screamed, growing more and more psychotic by the second.

'None of this would have happened if it wasn't for you, you little bitch! You so self-righteous thinking you deserve happiness, when you don't even know what true cruelty is! You deserve nothing when you so happily walk from loved ones, not even prepared to stand and fight alongside them! I trusted you! And you just left him there… surrounded and **alone**!'

Hermione now stood to, perhaps more composed even with her trembling hands.

'I told you…' The brunette began, finally with the fire in her voice and what Ginny had been searching for. 'I had no choice! He made me promise that I would keep you safe. He was gone, we had a chance. Instead you condemned us worse than if we accepted the same fate.'

Ginny became ridiculously angry, beyond any feet she thought possible. The girl had attempted to challenge her, to try and justify her actions by allowing Ron to die.

'It was a fate happily accepted for knowing you were in the same peril.' Ginny spat.' Except you didn't, did you? Not even the Dark Lord's dog managed to get his claws on you… I would have gladly died beside Ron, knowing that we would at least be together. Instead because of you, he died in pain and with not one single person who loved him by his side!'

'You don't think I didn't love him!?' Hermione screeched back, digging her nails into the table surface. 'I would have done anything to save him and I'd give anything to have him back! But he made me promise that you and I would remain safe. I did what I thought was right…'

Her tone trailed off as she straightened herself again, allowing tears to visible well in her amber eyes.

Ginny looked towards Malfoy, hoping for some support in anyway. He, however, had never appeared more relaxed allowing the exchange to continue as willed by the two witches. She could stand for hours, aiming the wand all across Hermione's body, trying to place it best for the most suited curse.

The Mudblood averted her eyes, wiping a tear softly that had fallen onto her cheeks. Ginny stood as determined as ever allowing the Muggle-born to prepare for her next altercation. Whatever it would be however, would only result in a clear conscious for the moment when the redhead would decide to kill her.


	20. Wrath of a Mudblood

Chapter Twenty

_Wrath of a Mudblood_

* * *

By now, all Hermione could think of, was the hurt Ginny had caused her. It wasn't like anything she had ever felt. She had been beaten and tortured and endured physical and magical agony, so much so she was immune to its hindrance. She had been betrayed, lied to and mocked through most of her recent memory - however the emotion she felt now, ran much deeper than that.

Hermione saw Ginny as a sister, the young powerful witch who needed so much guidance. She had always hoped to be the one to offer her that, to be there when boys were mean to her, to help her when she struggled academically. Although they had been like this once, when their characters had truly been put to the test they only seemed to change into two different people entirely.

Willing herself to not cry, she could already feel the hysterics building inside. Hermione fought desperately to keep herself poised, to not give the reaction Ginny so obviously craved. However a single tear rolled freely down her cheek, streaking her skin with a line of its moisture. Wiping it promptly, she tried to think of something to say and could only hope that there was some part of the old Ginny left.

'I know it's hard to understand and don't think that I didn't plague myself with endless guilt for it, but even with Ron and Harry gone, by keeping us alive we could have done something. We all knew the risks involved, we couldn't just give up because…'

She looked up. Ginny remained in the exact same position, cocking her eyebrow menacingly.

'I couldn't have saved Ron. But I tried to save you, Ginny. Not because of a promise but I couldn't bear to watch you die as well.'

This time, there was no fear in her heart. She stared at the redhead making a persisting effort to look her in the eye. It did not matter that she was unarmed and at the mercy of someone so emotional dangerous but she had to try and remind Ginny of what they started fight for in the first place.

Hermione waited, hoping for some kind of reaction. However it as though time had completely stopped as though they were frozen to their last ever movement. Then in that moment, Ginny's lips began to curve, creasing itself into a smile. Her wand lower and she stepped forward. Yet it did not seem like a sequence of surrender and Hermione did not dare assume it was.

'All is forgiven then isn't it?' Ginny spoke softly with an easily detectable amount of venom behind her words. Hermione braced herself, unsure of what would follow. Her eyes unconsciously began to search the sight before her, trying to assess what could happen.

'Mudblood.'

The word stung her like a slap to the face, leaving a raw tenderisation across her mettle.

'Why are you acting like all of this is my fault!' Hermione began to yell, screwing up her fists tightly. 'Did it ever occur to you, that all of this could have been avoided!? You were the one who start screaming You-Know-Who's name! You were the one who purposely got us captured and told the Death Eater's exactly who we were! If you didn't do any of that, then we would have been alive! Instead, you force us into cages of absolute torment! Now, look at us!'

Hermione felt like she had said this all within one breath and with each word her octave's rose higher and higher. They both stood there, one ready to break at any moment. Ginny's ferocity manipulated her face in a sinister growl. All Hermione could think of, was the sheer anger she felt. Never had she been this enraged before and blackness had already begun to dilute her vision.

'You always thought you were **so **perfect, didn't you, Hermione?' Ginny spat.

The heat exploded in her chest and Hermione was certain she would not be able to hold her temper for much longer.

'Crucio!'

The green beam soared towards her as its light filled all of her sight. As Hermione fell to the floor, she honestly thought that the curse hit her and her body contracted to the expected pain. Yet there was none and her body loosened to the relief.

It was then that a starling thought occurred to her. _The fire…_ As the memories fogged together, she was convinced that the altercation lay somewhat similar to now. Ginny was not the same person she used to be and Hermione feared that she never would be again. However now was not the time for sorrow. Hermione had to act quickly to ensure that Ginny didn't try to kill her again.

She grabbed for the back of a chair, using it to pull herself up. As she did so, the smirk on Ginny's face only added to growing hate for the girl.

'It was you who started the fire!' Hermione spat with conviction. Ginny nodded with self-assurance smiling the whole time.

'I'm only sorry for the fact that the meddlesome elf found you when he did.'

Then, two things happened at the exact same time. The redhead flicked her wrist and was one syllable into cursing something unforgivable Hermione's way. Alternatively, the eldest lunged forward, grabbing a fistful of the russet locks.

She hauled Ginny forward, causing her to scream and scratch at the hands that held her there. Goblets and plates crashed with her, as Hermione dragged her onto her side of the table. She pulled her down towards the floor, causing the girl to tumble down with exceeding force and an avalanche of silver coquetry to descend after her.

Still with a tight grip on the long waving red hair, Hermione noticed the wand Ginny continued to hold. Colliding her foot downward, her heel squashed the occupied hand between her foot and the floor.

Ginny let out a piercing squeal as the brunette could feel the bones crush and splinter beneath her weight and kicked the wand out of the way. She was too far gone to produce magic and she **wanted **Ginny to feel to physical wrath of a Mudblood.

Putting all of her force into her hands, she pushed the Weasley's head directing into the table. Pounding it once, twice, three times. The glorifying crack of nasal cartilage echoed through the room and Ginny attempted to yell her way out of it. With each slam the cries became more and more muffled as Hermione drew her head back inspecting the damage.

The once smug face was now marbled with blood as it oozed from multiple contusions. She began cough, causing more blood to spill from her mouth. Ginny began to laugh weakly in an obvious attempt to mask her struck ego.

'Muggles always think… they can do so m…much damage with their fists.' She began to pant. 'Don't forget where I was locked up… for eight months.'

Hermione had no patience left for the girl as she released a hold of her hair. Ginny fell forward, grabbing the edge of the table with her fingers, smearing them in the blood that dripped off of the wood. The brunette inhaled deeply, silently cursing Ginny for all she had done. Before she knew what she was even doing, Hermione sprung back her arm, only to have her fist collide with Ginny's temple, rending her completely unconscious.

As she hit the floor, the pain began to surge into Hermione's knuckles and she flapped her hand attempting to ease the pain.

'A punch from Hermione Granger.' A cold drawl began and Hermione jumped in her skin, completely forgetting that Draco was even around. 'As I remember, they're not too particularly pleasant.'

Snatching the wand from the floor, Hermione turned around, directing it straight at Draco. Breathlessly, she scolded her eyes towards him, stamping her foot in annoyance. 'You know how unstable she's become. Yet you sat there and did nothing!'

Draco stood, pulling his own wand from inside his jacket and mimicking Hermione's actions. 'Well,' he said, 'doesn't it feel much better to have it all out in the open?'

Furrowing her brow in shock confusion, Hermione took a step forward, contracting her eyes. 'I thought everything had changed now. I thought you were to be trusted, instead you've only made it so Ginny and me see each other as enemies.'

To her annoyance, he began to laugh, tilting his head pretentiously. 'You and Ginny made each other enemies. That was none of my doing.'

The thought perplexed her but Hermione was determined to blame Draco for this evening.

'Then what else was the purpose of this dinner?' She asked, slightly lowering her guard.

'Why do you think?' Draco replied.

Hermione looked on at him stumped. _What kind of a question is that?_ She pondered, wondering if he was just trying to complicate her mind further.

'I don't know, Draco. Perhaps because you're just a sick and twisted little boy?' The words did not sound as harsh as intended and Hermione chided her lack of certainty.

He raised his eyebrows, appearing to read her mind. Lowering his wand, he placed it back into his jacket. He took a step towards her, and another. His arms were up with his palms open, as each step took him closer to the end of the wand Hermione pointed. By the time he stopped it was pressing into his chest, exactly where his heart was beating away. She looked at him confused of what he was doing but refused to make any eye contact.

'What has happened between you and Ginny is perfectly understandable. You were both tortured in very different ways. She seems to think that the blames lies everywhere else for what she's become. You however are different.'

Hermione stared downward fearful to meet the artic gaze. She would always try and avoid his storming eyes, always wary of what she would find.

'You seem to think that it's your entire fault. No matter what you might say to her, I know different.'

She paused, unsure of what to do next and allowed him to continue with the Aspen still held firmly into chest.

'With all of these complexities, you two needed to deal with it before we find Potter. You do realise that once we find him, the full assault will be launch. The last thing we need it you two causing more than enough problems.'

Precedent fears had been confirmed as she had thought as much previously. However what Draco said made perfect sense. A lot of things had been said tonight, things that had needed to be addressed for a long time.

'Are you going to kill me then?' Looking up unconsciously, her eyes connected to his and she felt a charge of exhilarating to course through her. The adrenaline of it all started to take hold of her body, feeding her cells and forcing her to spin to its command. However, reluctantly, she subordinated the wand, dropping it to the floor.

'Now, you are free to be excused.' Hermione nodded dumbfounded, completely speechless of any reason or argument. She looked behind her to the unconscious girl on the floor, shocked at the afflictions she had caused. 'Don't worry about Ginny. I'll deal with her.' Draco put bluntly.

Again she nodded foolishly as though not only had she lost her tongue but all mental capacity to go with it. She closed her eyes softly, picturing the confines of her bedroom and taking a deep breath before the contraction sucked her away.

Flying forward, the colours and sounds rushed past her and within a split second she was back into her underground room. Before she opened her amber eyes again, Hermione could not help but sink into the elation of chaos and carnage she had felt that evening. All before she had even taken a bite of her appetizers.


	21. Another Weasley Lost to the Cause

**Hello! Okay so basically, I'm starting work this week and obviously won't have as much free time as I would like, especially considering it's not just work it's a years course on top of that. So fun times! Anyway, uploads are going to be a bit slow but the story will continue, I just rudely have to ask for your patience :D **

**But yeah, I've tried to do quite a lengthily and action packed chapter for you to all get your teeth into, so I hope you all enjoy this! Thank you all! :)**

**3**

Chapter Twenty One

_Another Weasley Lost to the Cause_

* * *

_""_

_The sense of safety did not last for long as she continued to cling to floor, under the veil of smoke and dust. Shouts and spells still bolted through the fogged air as Hermione squinted her eyes in attempt to make sense of the many pairs of feet. _

_With each breath she took, she would inhale a deep lungful of the clogged atmosphere around her. She attempted to crawl on her stomach - like a startled lizard - as she waded through the debris particles that masked the air. Pushing forward, she squealed to the sudden stomp of two imposingly sized black boots, which almost trampled her head._

_Looking up, Hermione could see no face or any other body part and shuffled back slightly, through fear of being discovered. Shaking her curls from her face, the feet had not moved but pivoted on their heels facing her direction. Before she could plan on how to maintain her discreet presence, the two words she always dreaded to hear soared from behind her._

_'Avada Kedavra!' _

_The man before her crashed to the ground - his eyes wide and lifeless as the green glow still illuminated through him. Screaming for a second time, she scattered backwards, hitting the warm body of another. Frantically looking up behind, the hand of Neville and his knitted jumper swooped down, hauling her up by the collar._

_'Go find your wand, Hermione!'_

_The command rattled throughout her head as though it was too thick to be absorbed. Yet somehow, her legs moved involuntary, ducking past the boy who still continued to hold the protective shield. She flew into her bedroom, running with her weight into the door to open it and scanned the room in hope of finding her possessions. Her bag laid on a wooden chair beside her but her wand was nowhere to be seen. _

_Grabbing for the bag, she threw the strap across her head and onto her shoulder, guaranteeing that she wouldn't drop it. Running to the bed, an explosion burst through the wall behind her – missing her by quite a bit – and exited through the wall she faced. The shock shot at Hermione's nerves, reverberating inside of her. Dropping to her knees she checked under the bed. Nothing._

_'Where is it!' She cried, trying to think desperately where it could be. She couldn't think when she last had it, where she would have put it. Her mind was spinning at such a speed she could not pick one thing from another. The yells of men drew closer as it seemed the skirmish was being pushed back further into the cabin._

_Suddenly, she turned and looked down, ripping open her bag. Sighing to herself in frustration she stood, for the wand was in her bag the whole time. Arming herself, she grabbed for door and ran to join the others._

_The dust had cleared in the air around her and everyone was plainly visible. Everybody was present; Harry, Ron, Ginny, Neville, Dean, Seamus, Cho, Luna, George and Romilda. They all stood across the width of the middle area with wands high and a convexed blue defence. Running to join her friends, she pushed between Harry and Ron, adding her wand to the fight._

_The misty stream flowed from the tip, expanding the shield before them and successfully keeping them safe from the Death Eater's curses. _

_Every spell the Death Eaters tried, yet not one penetrate the impressive field of resistance. A hand the right of her gripped her arm, clenching at it tightly. She stared towards Harry, startled by his impulsive behaviour. He did not look at her and kept his sights set ahead of him. Hermione could begin to feel the coldness of the materialized shield as she took a step back as the Death Eaters came ever closer._

_She felt a pull as she was torn from the incantation and dragged backwards. Her mind took a few moments to realise and her feet obeyed clumsily underneath her. Staggering to the force, her hair fell across her face, blocking all vision. Inside, Hermione couldn't quite make sense of the situation, why Harry was taking her somewhere, where they to escape and leave their friends to perish? Could she actively make that decision and live with herself? _

_It wasn't until she looked up, Hermione saw Harry barging through the door of their usual meeting room. Dropping her hand, he grabbed for all the maps and information, throwing it towards the stunned witch. Several scrolls fell loose from her hands and she fumbled around trying to pick them up and stuff them into her bag. _

_'Hermione…'_

_She averted her eyes up, noticing the panic and fear within Harry's face, his eyes appearing a bright shade of emerald. Everything about her stopped as her body could already predict the horrors of what she was to hear. _

_'I have to go. You can't come with me and I can't tell you where I' going.'_

_As soon as his voice stopped a soul shatter scream echoed from behind the walls. Snapping her head round, Hermione's ears attuned the noise. Several cries and shrieks emitted afterwards as well as the deep cackle of triumph. 'Merlin,' she said breathlessly as her shocked eyes, slowly turned back towards Harry._

_'There isn't much time. But I promise I'll be back.' His words were rushed as no comprehension formed in Hermione's mind as the sound of the fallen rang repetitively around her brain. 'Stay with Ron and Ginny. You three __**have to **__stay alive. Especially you, Hermione. I know if this all goes to shit, you'll be the only one able to find me.'_

_He stepped forward slowly, with a look in his eyes she had seen so often before. Before she could think of a response, Hermione felt herself lung forward, wrapping her arms tightly around Harry's neck._

_'Promise me you'll come back?'_

_Her voice was stifled with tears as his warm gripped threaded around her waist. _

_'I promise. I'm sorry. I have to go.' _

_With that, he pushed Hermione backwards, disconnecting all physical contact. A split second later he was gone. Her mouth fell open to the shock as Hermione stared at the empty air before her. She felt overwhelming dismayed as she became deaf to the battle that was being fought on the other side of the wall. Somehow, she managed to grab the rest of the intelligence and roughly put the parchment into her beaded bag._

_Numbly she stood, her mind twisting with all that had happened. The events dwindled on the surface of her thoughts as though they were as unfathomable as a distant dream. Turning, she felt nothing but disbelief as her feet took her towards the door. Harry was gone. He left her. He left __**everyone**__. The boy who was their saviour had abandoned them. This wasn't happening. Everything was hollow. It was nothing._

_Her hand reached for the door handle, pulling it open. She did so almost ritually as if she were a ghost re-enacting the movements of a once happy life. What was she to do? What was to happen to them? How could he of left her and allow her to be the one to tell everyone else that Harry wasn't there anymore. How could he do that to her? _

_Her mind was full of endless questions - ones she felt should not have been needed to be asked in the first place. Stepping from the room another screech echoed around followed by the recognisable thump of the dead weight hitting the floor from another lifeless body. _

_The long brunette curls sprawled across the floor and Romilda's skinny frame. Another one gone. Another one who should have been protected. Then Seamus fell, a rebound from his own Incendio curse. The Death Eater's closed in, circling all around them. Ron and Ginny stood in front of her, pushing them slowly back into the cornered confinements of the cabin. _

_Suddenly, it was though the slowness of time had whirled ahead, faster than anything she had known before and Hermione was thrown into the midst of conflict._

_Bodies lay across the floor like dropping flies and she saw that no one here was invincible. There was both an equal chance of survival as death. Yet something electrified within her, a sense she had felt once before during the Battle of Hogwarts. She had every impulse inside of her of what exactly to do. Nothing would deter the bright young witch from staying alive and keeping her friends breathing alongside of her._

_In the seconds she had, she honed onto the sights around her, hoping for some kind of escape to present itself. _

_'Where's Harry!?' Ron cried, yelling behind him towards Hermione. She diverted her attention to him, tearing herself from her thoughts. 'He's gone,' she managed to choke out with dry eyes and steady hands. There was no way Ron could have heard her, as the deafening blows continued to fly around them. _

_'Sectumsempra!' Hermione shot into the midst of the group of assailants. The curse hit successfully, instantly splitting the skin apart to revealed the whole of the chest cavity. One fell behind him and another. It was impossible to tell which way the spells were coming from and going to. Regardless of how many they would take out. They were still easily outnumbered by five. _

_To her left, Luna fought with a man twice her height and with hair nearly as long. He bore little teeth but snarled them continuously as if they still remained. Her reactions were quick and proved easily that she was an equal match for the wizard. Luna danced around his curses carelessly, flaying her arms as though it was a hot summer's day. _

_Avoiding several jinxes by her audacious movements – and firing little of her own – she looked as though she was in more of an exotic dance rather than fighting for her life. However, Hermione knew better, his weak spells were a lure and most certainly not a good one at that. Within an instant, the former Gryffindor not only knew that he was playing nothing but a game but the spell that was about to go Luna's way._

_'Luna!' Hermione's legs moved, even though she begun to sprint the ten metres she needed to cover seemed as though it was miles. She would not get there in time and everything had slowed down once again. It was like one of those particular nightmares, she would run but she would not move. She could not do anything._

_The ruthless green light soared into Luna's chest, adding to the numbers of the diminished. Since all of this had begun, it was about survival, about making plans and ensuring that everything was set in motion. Now was different, now all Hermione felt was the anger. The injustice of their world, the abandonment of their Messiah and now more and more friends were joining each other in the place that laid beyond mortality. _

_Her blood pressure heightened along with her anger, the black invaded her eyesight and she saw nothing but the Death Eater that had just ended Luna's life…._

_'Avada Kedavra!' Not once since the campaign had begun, did Hermione so much as mutter an Unforgivable Curse. Yes, she had aided to men's deaths and certainly not held back on equally brutal curses but this was the first time she had killed a wizard directly. It was never her intention, unconsciousness or impairment was enough to satisfy her. Now baring witness to this death in particular awoke the sleeping lion within her. A predator._

_Hermione stood still, not only from shock but through mere contemplation. As soon as the curse left her lips, something within her changed and she knew for sure the insufferable know it all would never have the chance to return. Avoiding Luna's closed eyes and lifeless radish earrings she drowned into the expense of war. _

_'We have to get out of here, Ron!' His face gave no recognition and he fought strongly against two Death Eaters. Ginny stood behind her, debilitating several with childish jinxes she would also regularly perform on the Hogwarts Express. Now was not the time from reminiscence. Now was the time for survival._

_Turning around, she aimed her Vinewood towards the wall that trapped them. 'Reducto!' The wood panelling splintered apart leaving a hole big enough for them to get through. The sunshine spilled through as Hermione shouted 'come on!' towards both Ron and Ginny. The dilemma of the situation, of escaping and knowing that friends would be left to their fate was evident to see upon Ron's face. However, she grabbed his hand in sympathy, tugging him towards their exit. Ginny remained and casted a powerful bout of Fiendfyre in the shape of a beastly lion and then she too turned, following Hermione and Ron to their safety. _

_They ran as fast as their feet could carry them. Fear of dying was the only thing in that moment that kept Hermione going. Not just mentally but it provided the physical energy needed to keep her running in the right direction. A new drive absorbed within her as she began firing spells blindly behind her, devouring the most deserving. The three curses she vowed never to use now liberated her hate. Several Death Eaters fell to the floor behind them as Ron and Ginny stuck to her side. _

_Autumnal leaves scattered the ground with their fawn and mauve hues. Twigs lay in her path - coincidentally anywhere she would place her foot as thought they were purposely trying to trip her. Each tree was easy to duck in comparison with the speed she was reaching and how often she looked over her shoulder. _

_Six Death Eaters still pursued after them, firing spells of blue, green and red. Luckily for them however, the Death Eaters were a lot worse at casting spells while on the move than the three who remained. Hermione's heart began to thump tremendously under her ribcage and she also found her lungs gasping pathetically for shallow breath. _

_She looked down, focusing her attention on anything she could. She had to stay alive, __**they **__had to stay alive. She couldn't concentrate enough for apparition and she highly doubted the others were up to such tasks. With each step she took it brought her that one step closer to her freedom. At least, that's what she believed - it was what she __**had**__ to believe. _

_In any other circumstance, it would have been a glorious day. The sun had split it beams through the hundreds of trees that lay in their way and a soft breeze tumbled around them, rustling the leaves and sweeping them across the ground. Unfortunately however it felt like no matter what she saw, how appreciative she had always been, the beauty had been sucked from everything. Additionally she could not help but think there would be no more niceties for a long time._

_As they continued to run, the space between them and their adversaries kept growing and the three continued to retreat at full speed. The curses grew fewer and far between as it became more of a cat and mouse chase rather than a bombardment of magical afflictions. _

_They approached a sloped embankment, one they were at the bottom of. None of them stopped nor hesitated but only continued to pelt up the hill. Hermione's legs began to burn with use of her muscles. They already had begun to feel stiff and the pangs of hunger increased as her body had nothing to fuel itself with – apart from the sheer adrenaline. _

_However, she persisted but fell behind both Ron and Ginny. She dared to look behind her, trying to focus on the camouflaging scenery with her curls bouncing around her face. Nobody was to be seen but she did not trust her eyes and assumed the Death Eaters were close anyway. In no time at all, it seemed she had reached the top the slope and she stumbled onto her hands and knees momentarily. Hermione pushed herself back up instantly, tripping slightly as they continued to run into the midst of the forest. _

_They ran for what felt like an eternity, although Hermione knew it couldn't have been any long than twenty minutes. No more spells were fired since they advanced over the hill but relentlessly, they continued to sprint._

_'We must have run at least two miles by now!' Ron said breathlessly as his paced descended to a simple jog. Hermione attempted to nod as both she and Ginny slowed their speed too. When they all finally stopped, they looked around them while panting desperately._

_'Do… Do you think… We lost… Them?' Hermione managed to spit out as she leant forward and her knees shook with exhaustion. Ron shrugged his shoulders as he looked as though he was sinking to the ground._

_'We can't stop,' Ginny said bluntly. She appeared to be less out of breath, placing her hands around her waist and walking in a circle. They all exchanged glances as well as scouring the area for any sign that they weren't alone._

_'Ginny's right,' Ron said standing up straight. 'We'll keep walking, hopefully they won't find us again.' _

_'How did they even find us in the first place?' Hermione commented, as she too begun to stroll ahead with the other two. She looked towards both Ron and Ginny who seemed to hold no answers for her._

_'I don't know, any kind of tracking spell. Maybe someone dropped something, I don't know, Hermione.' Ron seemed as puzzled as everyone else but in no way was Hermione reassured. They had fortified defences, spells and protective charms that have proven to work so many times before. How was it possible that they found them? Her magic was completely fool-proof, not to mention how careful everyone was. _

_'Why did Harry leave?' Hermione looked towards Ginny who voice held complete and utter pain. The eldest could only give her an expression of sympathy, for if Hermione knew her mind would not be as frantic. 'Well, did he say anything?' Ginny asked more pressingly, perhaps hoping for news to ease the situation. Hermione shook her head - avoiding Ginny's eyes as she found it difficult enough to admit what happened to herself, let alone someone else as well. _

_'He said he was coming back.' Her voice was weak as the autumnal air chapped the back of her throat. Ron stopped dead his tracks, turning towards Hermione. _

_'I don't understand. Harry fucks off and doesn't tell anyone why but says he'll be back? How the fuck does that make any sense? It's not like we can go back to the cabin!' Hermione jumped to the aggression in his words but as usual his temper simmered out pretty quickly. She had no idea what to do, what Harry's words meant or how to make any kind of plan from the situation they appeared to be in. _

_Regardless of the extension charm she had placed on her bag it did not lessen any of the weight as it swung heavily at her side. It pulled down on her shoulders cutting into the side of her neck as they trudged forward through the thickened foliage that masked their footsteps._

_As they pushed on, Hermione was sure she had heard a disturbance around them but assumed it was nothing more than either the wind or her imagination. They walked for around about a mile before they even contemplated to stop. _

_They finally stumbled upon an enclosed area, one scattered with many trees where the canopies had started to entwine themselves, providing some form of roofing and mostly a decent amount of coverage. They all fell towards the ground, collapsing languidly with very little strength left within them. _

_Lying into the leaves, Hermione took the time to admire the silence and the fact she was still alive. It troubled her deeply that they had left their friends to a certain death and unfortunately there was truth within Harry's last words. It was them that had to survive, the only ones who were capable of preventing all this carnage._

_The dryness of the leaves crunched and cracked beneath her hair – most probably clinging onto the depths of her curls. _

_'Do you think we did the right thing?' She voiced her doubts, her conscious understandably uneasy. There was nothing within her that could excuse their actions. She was furious with Harry for leaving them, yet they did the exact same. Those were friends who trust them to keep them safe, to guide them through this war._

_'There was nothing we could do.' Ginny stated simply who was lying on her back looking towards the cool blue sky. 'Besides even if they did escape with us they would have just slowed us down. We would have been dead as well.' _

_Hermione could not help but look towards the younger witch, curious by the callous attitude. Then shamefully she remembered that George was in the skirmish as well. Another Weasley lost to the cause. _

_She sighed heavily, fighting back the tears as she pushed herself back up scanning their scenery. Then she heard it again. The same sound she heard about a mile away. It was distinctive, a heavy purposeful sound. Like the sound of a footstep. She couldn't quite place the direction of the noise as the natural orchestral filled the air. The sound of wind rustling through the trees and the shuffle of tiny creatures in the shrubbery concealed any unnatural intrusions. _

_Her senses perked as she drew the attention of both Ron and Ginny silently. She pointed between a cluster of trees of where she was sure the sound originated from and mouthed 'I heard something' to the both of them. They too looked around cautiously arming themselves with their trusted wands. Hermione's heart beat rose, anticipating the action. As the seconds drizzled past she started to believe that it was her mind going crazy, that it was all the excitement from earlier on. _

_They all stood as silently as they could - gingerly they tried to stay low and unseen. With all eyes in alternative directions, no one saw anything nor heard another sound. Hermione shook her head, sure of what she heard and it wasn't long before the presence made itself known. _

_Hermione saw something shift in the air in front of her, a flash of black that tumbled softly like a cloak. She looked around them, noticing the atmosphere contracting quickly as though there was less oxygen to breathe. _

_The vastness closed in around her as the stillness begun to settle and the tension was slowly drawn away. She crept back down to round resting her hands between the fallen leaves. Her fingers dug through the foliage attempting to find some solid support. They found their way to a patch underneath and the cold moisture licked at her skin. The texture was almost rubbery and smooth as a soft tingle started to develop in the tips of her fingers. Confused, she looked down and gently brushed the leaves away revealing the brown and black speckled mushroom. She saw the redness already beginning to form across her skin, turning her hands raw. _

_Hermione pulled her hands away quickly, examining both of them and the fungi that lay before her. _

_'Oh my God.' Hermione said quickly, standing up and away from the poison. 'There's Deadlyius here,' she said as hushed as she could. 'It only grows in places where there aren't any Muggles __**and **__there has to magic that is being routinely performed.' Ron stared at her with wide eyes, thankfully confirming that he didn't need any further explanation._

_The only reason they managed to escape the previous Death Eater's was because they were cornered into a trap. Panicked, she shot her eyes around her, noticing the faded sways of torn and ripped black robes. _

_The faces of the Death Eaters slowly came to view as whatever invisibility charm they used was obviously beginning to wear off. They encompassed them entirely, admiring their prey before they took to the kill as the bodies became less and less transparent. There was probably no more than eight of them but enough to ensure that a chance to escape was not possible. Hermione collected her thoughts as best she could, knowing that her concentration might be the only thing to give them any hope of freedom._

_There was no way they would all survive, if any of them would. Hopefully they would just kill all three of them right there. Save them all the pain of if the Death Eaters were to discover who they truly were. Knowing their luck, they probably did already. _

_She could see Ginny standing not too far away from her, probably only a dozen footsteps. Ron however stood a good sprint away causing Hermione's heart to already sink. He looked towards her, his eyes portraying the same sorrow as he visibly struggled to give her a warming smile. Then, without warning his expression completely dropped as he was lifted off of his feet and blasted towards the ground._

_It was in the precise moment, everything for Hermione washed away. She felt a part of her soul shred apart with the claws of despondency. There was not one morsel of her that did not belong to him and as his body hit the floor, it was as though she too was flung from every plane of consciousness that could ever emit any form of happiness. _

_As one part of her completely switched off to outside world, drowning in what only seemed like darkness, there was something else. Something that was screaming at her, telling her to move, to leave, that today was not the day to die. _

_Somehow Hermione managed to listen to her more pragmatic thoughts and saw the eruption of spells blasting her way. For a second time that day she seemed to have been thrown into a dimension where time did not act of the same speed it usually would. Every tiny motion was emphasised as there only seemed to be time to think, to act. She leaped forward, pouncing on top of Ginny. She prayed her mind would perform the magic correctly, closing her eyes tightly and thinking of anywhere else but there._

_The compression took its toll squeezing out every ounce of air inside of her and every bit of physically strength she had left. The countryside, motorways and Muggle towns all flash by at break neck speed causing instant sickness in the pit of her stomach. Hermione could feel a vague grip on Ginny and within seconds they then fell onto what she presumed was the floor, smashing into the hard surface. She rolled for quite a distance, tumbling head over heels and crashing onto her side. When the sensation stopped, she lifted her head to see Ginny storming towards her._

_Hermione shot up quickly onto both feet regardless of a pounding headache forming on top of nausea. _

_'What the fuck have you done!?' Ginny yelled into her face, standing not even an inch from Hermione's nose. _

_'I didn't know what else to do!' Hermione screamed back, taking a step away from the redhead. 'What choice did we have!?' The girls stared defiantly at each other, each one cloaking their emotion anguish. _

_'We should have stayed! We should have fought them!' Ginny was undeniably close to tears as Hermione soon followed suit with her eyes beginning to well. She tried to comfort the younger witch, stretching out her arm in support. However Ginny only batted it away turning from the affection. _

_As Hermione took a deep breath, she saw where she had taken them. It was a simple playground park, one that was not too far from where grandmother used to live. She hadn't been to this place since she was a child, yet everything seemed so hauntingly familiar. _

_'I'm sorry, Ginny. But… But…' Hermione begun to speak but couldn't find the words. Ginny merely shook her head, biting on her lip. 'It's too late for that now!' she replied pacing closer towards the brunette with her arms tightly folded. _

_'__**Voldemort**__!__** Voldemort**__!__** Voldemort**__!'Her voice was loud, booming across the fields before them. Hermione's eyes widened in shock, as she tried to move but knew it would only completely futile. 'Why?...' She managed to splutter but it didn't matter. Several cracks popped in the air around her and once again they were found. _

_A large rough pair of hands gripped the back of her neck, tightening his clasp as Hermione submitted to the pain, almost falling to the floor. _

_'I'm Ginny Weasley,' the redhead spoke as she too was grabbed forcefully by the arms. 'No!' Hermione cried, utterly perplexed by Ginny's actions. Yet she knew what was coming, her fate was about to be sealed. 'And this is Hermione Granger.'_

_The Death Eaters grinned between them. _

_'Look what we've got 'ere boys,' one said eagerly and another nodded enthusiastically. _

_'The Mudblood and the Blood Traitor.' He said, as Hermione was snatched away from the Muggle scenery and once again spinning in the compression of apparition. _

_""_

As she opened her eyes, her body began to tingle with the paralysis of trauma. Hermione had allowed herself to think back to that day, to delve into every detail of what happened. Yet as she lay on her bed, she felt as though she was still there, as though Ron was still within reach of being saved.

Ever since she had taken to relaxing more regularly in the no doubt enchanted bath, her memories had begun to recollect and her thought pattern had begun to smooth out. At first when the flood of memories swooped into her brain, unleashing the monsters of the past, she thought it would causing no more than a psychotic hindrance. However as she stared to the ceiling of her four poster bed and actually allowed herself to think of the past, it seemed to provide the clues and details she needed. There were signs of everything leading to this very point, on how to progress and how to win. She just had to remember them.

Hermione did not give any thought to the dinner and ignored the events, secretly pleased that Ginny got what she deserved. There was an ounce of guilt that was building inside of her, knowing that all of Ginny's recent behaviour was only due to everything she had suffer. _What kind of excuse is that? _Hermione thought bitterly, all had been subjected to more than their fair share of tragedy and mistreatment. Yet there Hermione was, clear minded and ready for the next challenge.

However, it wasn't that simple. There was still something, the thought of Ron that was determined to not let her move on. How could she know that even if she did save the day, what would the point if she did not have her beloved to share it with? Although he never truly left her, she pushed it to the back of her mind, grabbing for the letter that had fallen onto the floor.

Reading the script, she took one verse at a time mulling over what she already knew.

_Crouching below the firework, _

_The hours are chased into the snow._

_The lion begins to smirk,_

_As the swan triumphs her new beaux. _

_ Okay, so._ Hermione thought prepping herself as she took a deep sigh. _Barty Crouch Jr, The Yule Ball… But the lion? Harry? And the swan? Who on earth is the swan? Maybe it's nothing to do with houses… _She paused holding the thought as she rubbed her forehead in frustration. _Well else defines personality? A Patronous maybe? Well Cho's Patronous was a swan, but I don't know anyone that had a lion for one…._

She thought back to her fourth year, when everything seemed so simple. When they all got their first taste of death. _Cho went to the Yule Ball with Cedric, so it can't be that. _She began to pull at her lower lip subconsciously, looking up and around that maybe the answer would appear plainly for her. Her attention was then again diverted back to the easier times of her life. When all that mattered, was proving she had a better date to that stupid dance, than Ron did.

Her thoughts trailed off once again, thinking back to all the good times - preparing Harry for the Triwizard Tournament; the excitement of seeing foreign wizards their age; of Ron dancing with Professor McGonagall in front of everyone because as usual his mischievousness landed him in a rather hilarious punishment.

Then a voice of her last thought echoed in the Professor's shrill and commanding speech. _'Inside every girl a secret swan slumbers… Inside every boy, a lordly lion prepared to prance.' _This meant that whoever Harry was referring to was clearly a couple that attended the Yule Ball together. However that still left her with a list as long as her arm. _Maybe there's another clue somewhere._

_Once seen death the path will guide,_

_Towards the masses that took their form._

_Requirement made a side,_

_Taking little notice of the storm._

_ Okay, so we now how we're going to go somewhere, by the use of Thestrals but we need to know where to go. I can only assume by the next line that Harry has formed some kind of army. Requirement? Requirement… The Room of Requirement? _She threw the paper in front of her, growing increasingly fed up with these ridiculous riddles. How on earth was she even supposed to know that what she did figure out would be a certainty?

_Okay so the Room of Requirement, we'll start there. _Yet there were so many occurrences in the supposedly secret room - everything from Dumbeldore's Army to the hunt for the lost Diadem. _Perhaps it was something to do with the Diadem. I mean the side was always made regarding the DA, we were always on the same side. But the Diadem, with Draco… That's why Harry saved him. Because of the plan._

_Taking little notice of the storm._

A storm… Hermione begun to think allowing her mind to trace every depth of the sentence. Of course a storm could only be made from colliding weather fronts, yet who had already begun to brew the sense of trouble? Maybe it wasn't something Hermione knew then, perhaps it was only something Harry saw. _Ginny and me? _ Her mouth fell open as she could not imagine how Harry would have foreseen this. Then again, he was always persistently perceptive especially on the emotional front and both were the closest to him.

Her arms flapped at her side in exasperation and she could not possible stand to look at the letter anymore. She didn't care and started to feel increasingly overwhelmed. She had a feeling that perhaps the letter was best left for another time, after she returned from the bath.


	22. With or Without Ginny

Chapter Twenty Two

_With or Without Ginny_

* * *

It had been three days since the dinner. Three days of cleaning up the mess. Draco knew it was against his best interests at some point and predicted it would all be against his better judgment. However it was all too tempting to cut of his nose to spite his face, regardless whether or not it was necessary.

It had all gone to plan, the way it was constructed perfectly to each action and timing. The Dark Lord himself would not even have been able to create such an ideal situation. It thrived his ego, giving him the extra edge he needed to realign his priorities. Both girls had spent almost a month under his roof and already he had managed to cause a complete disownment of friendship from both sides, as well as encouraging Ginny to amalgamate with him. Hermione also had installed trust in to him, something he thought would take much longer to do - with a lot harder work.

However both of their fragilities, no matter how psychotic, had seemed to lend a hand to the only person left who could be perceived as their saviour. Himself, of course. Now, as he escorted Ginny towards the bath in the emerald cave he knew that this too would be one of his many useful aids.

She hobbled beside of him, leaning the unbalanced weight of herself into Draco as he kept a firm grip around her waist. She had recovered as well as could be expected, although her walking was still presenting an obvious challenge.

There were always some parts of the brain that remained untouched by magic and due to the excessive damage which had been caused, it was not a surprise that some physical parts were still a bit off. Unfortunately however, her spiteful and nasty attitude still remained as she spat constant misgivings in the air before her. Draco had grown instantly tired of it the moment she opened her mouth.

'I hope you let that little whore rot for what she did to me.' Ginny words were so laced with venom Draco was surprised she didn't poison herself with her own hate. Then ironically he thought, that's what exactly what she had done.

'Do I really need to remind you that I'm not going to allow anything of the sort?'

He matched her words with equally tenacity regardless of how tedious he thought it had all become. He was sure the only reason she didn't wish to apparate into the lower mansion was to increase the time with him all in order to bore him to death.

Draco was all for conspiring and malicious talk yet her endless blather had just become painfully dull and repetitive.

'Yes, well…' Ginny began, as Draco instantly rolled his eyes. 'That didn't seem to particularly matter while you were sitting back and doing nothing.' He pulled her roughly into him, asserting his dominance while pressing his fingers deep into her side. The tall wizard felt her ribcage reverberated underneath his fingertips and he was sure she was laughing. Or at least attempting to.

'Much to your annoyance Ginny, there are bigger things to worry about rather than **your **emotions. Besides, you forget quickly. I was the one to stop her and if that wasn't the case I doubt there would be much of you left to argue with.'

Her face snarled into a predictable grimace and Draco knew he had won the fight for now. He knew it was not wise to antagonize the witch, especially when she had such a crucial role to play.

The chess game of battle began to draw to its last final movements as Draco could only envisage the future of power that was about to be bestowed onto him. He would take his place as king, with or without Ginny by his side. He would be the one receiving infinite praise and glory while his foes would either lay dead in the gutter or swore a humiliating allegiance towards him.

Although Draco played the game of manipulated people so much so that they would act exactly how he predicted, he always knew the risks of things going wrong. It was all highly unpredictable, all it would have taken was one thought in another direction. There was no way to ensure someone's behaviour without the use of something such as the Imperious Curse.

Yet Draco knew. He knew both of the girls inside out, their strengths and their weaknesses. He loathed both of them for years, only seeing them as nothing but the enemy. If there was one thing he learnt well from his father was the way to overthrow the opposition. _You cannot conquer until you have captured the fire in their hearts. _This was something he solely believed and had clearly put to good practice.

'I know you don't like it Ginny but you need to understand that she needs to feel as though she has the upper hand.' Draco let go of her body as they approached the bath as transferred her weight onto the edge. 'You keep saying this Draco,' she began 'but not once have you given me sufficient reason to **understand **why you continue to speak of such ridiculous things.'

He stepped away from her and Ginny withdrew her wand from the pocket of her robe. Tapping the edge of the bath, the water began to seep from its sides, instantly filling it with miraculous aromas and materialized floral petals.

'Do you not trust me?' The redhead turned her head sharply, staring blankly towards Draco. A sound did not leave her lips however he could tell by her burning sienna eyes that a smile lay not too far behind them. She turned again dipping her hand into the bath and feathering her tips into the steaming water. 'I will need to speak with you.' He stated simply as he hands found his way to his pockets.

'You are already speaking with me Draco,' Ginny commented without turning her head. The Death Eater rolled his eyes, impossibly irritated by her sarcastic tone. 'No. I need to speak with you about the Mudblood.' He paused as he saw her interest heightened. 'And Potter.'

Ginny's head turned with such force she almost slipped from the edging. Draco smirked to himself as knew he had caught her completely off guard. Her eyes narrowed in contempt and he was fully aware of the hatred she had formed for her past love. 'Don't tell me,' she began to shout, 'that somehow that piece of shit is still alive?'

Draco shrugged his shoulders without meaning and saw something peculiar set ablaze in the feline eyes before him. It wasn't fear but his words had certainly caused some form of deep anxiety within her heart. Pleased that he successfully toyed with her emotions, he dipped his head excusing himself and pivoted on his heels to leave.

'Draco…' Her voice was low and illustrious, calling his soul towards her. He looked back behind him to see she was standing with a playful grin plastered onto her face. Slowly her porcelain fingers worked their way to the front of her robe, slowly untying the sash that held it in place. It only took a second for the silk tie to become undone as it slide over her shoulders and fell to the floor.

She stood there as proud as she could be, exposing her completely bare body towards Draco. He stood admiring her slender form and her pale skin. 'Do you plan on joining me?' She asked coyly as her lips formed into their natural seductive pout. Draco looked on determining his actions and resisting her ostentatious lures. _Not tonight _he thought to himself, trying desperately to restrain himself from completely and utterly destroying her. He smiled maliciously towards her, before her turned for one last time out of the subterranean cave.


End file.
